Race and Bigotry

(First published July 29, 2003)

When I was as teacher, race was on my list of topics to stay
away from in class. Too touchy, too easy to be misunderstood,
too risky for a junior faculty member who wanted to get tenure!
I figured only black men and women could talk honestly
about race and not get into trouble. Now that I'm out
of academics, I can actually think freely. So in a book
I wrote after I didn't have to worry about tenure any more,
I wrote a chapter on race and states' rights. It turned out
to be a good piece, and no one has attacked me for it yet.

Yesterday I picked up a black gentleman I've been working
with at the railway station. He has family in both the United States
and St. Thomas. He just graduated this spring with a degree
in computer science and electrical engineering. He had just taken
his seat in the passenger side of the station wagon when
I saw a big, kind of mean looking guy with a frown on his face
striding toward the car. He came from the station house,
where my friend had just been. I could tell he didn't intend to be polite.
I thought he was going to tell me to get out of the parking
space I was in. Instead, he looked hard at my friend and said:

"Next time I'll be happy if you flush the toilet."

"I did flush the toilet," my friend replied.

"No you didn't. I can tell because when the toilet flushes
the water in the sink goes down."

With that he turned around and walked back to the station house.

Now, my first reaction to this exchange was to think about who
might be right in this short exchange. The fellow from the station
certainly seemed sure of himself. Later on that day I reflected
that who was right didn't matter. I asked, "Would someone
have followed me all the way out to the parking lot to say
something like that to me?" I've had people be rude to me before,
but about flushing the toilet?

Nope, I had to see that this enforcement effort was part
of the treatment blacks get when they travel to the
white suburbs. I've heard so many stories about the
small indignities black people experience when they
deal with whites who regard them as intruders.
Bad experiences with the police get publicized, but this instance
reminds me that these uncomfortable encounters
unfold in many settings. "If I have to let you use my facilities,"
the fellow thinks, "I'm going to find some way to let you know
that I don't like it." Nope, I don't think I would have received
a warning about flushing the toilet from someone who didn't
see the water in the sink go down. Who even watches
for something like that unless he wants to find a reason
to get the guy? He might as well have added, "I didn't even check
the toilet itself, because what I really wanted to do was
let you know you're not welcome here."

Once Reagan's dad was on the road, and he stopped at
a hotel during an Illinois snowstorm. After Jack Reagan had
signed the hotel register, the manager noted the name and
commented, "Well, that's a good Irish Catholic name.
You'll be happy to know we don't take Jews here."

Jack replied, "If you won't take Jews, you won't take me,
either." Then he walked out and went back to his car.
He spent the night there, trying to keep warm in the
middle of the bad weather. Shortly afterward, he contracted
pneumonia and became very ill. He never fully regained his health.