I never thought I’d see a time again when our country was so
divided. This division we are seeing is reminiscent of the 60s when racism was
out loud, dogs were sic’d on black people, and a whole lot of other things. For
me I don’t know who is against me or who is for me when it comes to other
races. I want to believe that most people are inherently good, but assuming can
get me in an uncomfortable situation or worse. This shouldn’t be happening in
2017! The way we treat each other nowadays reminds me of the Civil Rights Era.
Black people not knowing if white people are ‘friendly’s’ or the enemy; white
people feeling the same way. Racism is so ugly; it divides, splits, and divides
again creating an atmosphere of fear, and mistrust.
All the
protesting and acidic verbiage about black people, about white people, reminds
me of when I was five years old. One day I was sitting on our back porch in
Delray. Delray is a small community located in Southwest Detroit. Delray had
the feel of a small town where everyone knew your family and family sometimes
lived as close as a walk to the corner. During the 60s in Delray there were
blacks and whites. For the most part I didn’t see white people come visit us
except my Uncle Richie’s high school friend. They were so close they even took
a picture together. Now I don’t know how his parents felt about Uncle Richie,
but Jimmy was lovingly accepted in our home. I can’t recall having any white
friends, and it wasn’t an issue with me either. Going to school with blacks and
whites, they were just other kids to play with on the playground.
I remember
one day while sitting on our back porch playing with my dolls, I could hear our
neighbor calling her dogs to eat. This neighbor seemed like a mean lady to a
child’s eyes. She never spoke to my mom or my grandparents. There were times
when I heard my family members talk about her. They would say she didn’t like
black people and one of the reason she had mean dogs was so she could sic those
dogs on any black person who came on her property. The name my grandparents
called our neighbor was Butchee. I never saw her up close, Butchee had a gray
privacy fence I thought kept those vicious sounding dogs contained. Part of
that was true, but the real truth was Butchee didn’t like Black people. Butchee
was racist.
That word
‘racist’ was too adult for my 5 year old mind. All I understood at the time was
that Butchee was mean and her dogs were always growling or barking whenever we
were in our own backyard.
One day
Butchee was preparing to feed her dogs. She fed them raw meat. I was on the
back porch playing with my dolls and heard a loud scream. It sounded like it
came from next door, in Butchee’s yard. After that scream I would hear several
more and what sounded like angry dogs attacking someone. I ran to the privacy
fence and looked in between the slats, I saw her two bull dogs biting Butchee.
One dog was biting her leg, the other had his teeth in her side. With so much
fear in my soul, I ran to my grandmother speaking frantically while trying to
pull my grandmother to the back porch.
My granny ran back into the house and called the police (9-1-1 wasn’t
created yet!) By the time the police and ambulance arrived, I had been told to
go inside the house and stay. My granny and other family members thought they
were protecting me from witnessing such a tragedy. They had no idea I had
peeped through the fence and saw the dogs jostling for a piece of Butchee. That
visual has remained in my memory for 51 years. I can’t un-see what I saw that
cloudy day.
I don’t
know why Butchee didn’t like black people, we weren’t bad people. We kept our
home up, didn’t break laws, worked everyday, we did what adults were supposed
to do. But something inside of Butchee wouldn’t allow her to like us. I wish I
could understand why people hate the things that make us different. Me being
black and you being white, Cubano, Latino, etc., what’s the difference? It’s
like having different spices in the gumbo. Those spices give the gumbo its
flavor, its nuance. For those that don’t like black people and other
minorities, you need to understand something, we’re not going anywhere and
you’d better learn to live with us. Otherwise your hatred might cause some
physical malady. Negative stress is bad for you, so just drop the drama and
let’s move on. Taking this country back 50-100 years isn’t beneficial to
anyone. There are more important things to focus on. Have you noticed ISIS or
any of the other terrorist groups aren’t trying to destroy us? No, they’re
watching us destroy ourselves.
