re: Were you raised in a racist environment?

My mom was a junior in high school and dad in college when schools integrated. They both were from real small towns in LA but both came from working class families. One side of the family was sugar cane farmers and the other my grandpa owned a furniture store and gas station so both sides had interactions/worked with the black families in the community.

I was born in the late 80s and the most racist stuff I would hear was going to the hunting camp and some of the other members would tell stories. My mom on occasion would make a comment but usually it was when watching the news about another murder or robbing.

Different perspective here being black.

Parents grew up at the tail end of a lot of the segregation stuff in the south. So they didn't have it too bad, relatively speaking, but they still had to deal with a lot of issues.

Dad never made race an issue, but my mom did. Not a hatred, but more of a white people are always watching you and judging you so you have to always be on your best behavior.

A lot of you you better not embarrass me in front of these white people speeches from her. Over time, it can breed some resentments that you don't realize. I never disliked white people but growing up they were foreign to me. Even though I went to school with plenty. It wasn't until I went to LSU that I really started interacting with white people and making friends with them.

Fast forward to today, and my 7 year old daughter literal does not recognize the concept of race. She is starting to, but probably no where near how we did.

no

only time i ever heard my dad mention race was when he showed me where the black cemetery was and where the white cemetery was on the road in the middle of BFE Mississippi where he grew up

Nope.

My dad thought the confederate flag was racist in the mid 90s.

He was always trying to educate us. I heard him drop the N bomb once when he was saying that everyone used to use that word more often. It wasn’t “catch a tiger by his toe.”

I remember one time, we were on a road trip, eating at shells and I must have been middle school. Server serves us. As soon as the server walked away, my dad gives a speech “that man is most likely gay. But you shouldn’t treat him any differently because of that.”

The most racist thing he said was he didn’t like some cultural aspects of some groups of people.

My mother, who often works closely with social services, is a bit more..... judgmental despite her more..... bleeding heart beliefs.

I’ve spent time trying to get her to realize she’s way way way more conservative than she realizes.

My mother who had to relearn English when she came back to the States was insulted by the Coke commercial a few years ago

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I very much was. Not many days went by in my childhood or adolescence that I didn't hear a conversation or rant about "those damned n*****" or "those worthless n*****". This came from family, friends and acquaintances of family, pretty much everyone in my environment. That is not an easy thing to overcome.

I started to challenge those ideas when I reached high school. I played sports and had several teammates of other races whom I got along well with. As an adult, I've tried to put that upbringing completely behind me, and for the most part I have. What I can't deny is that those thoughts and feelings, instilled in me from childhood, creep back into my thinking from time to time, especially in today's America where race is thrown in your face by the media and special interest groups constantly.

I know that I'm not the only one here like that, and I'd like to "have a conversation" about it. I'd like for admins to consider not anchoring this. If no one is interested, it will anchor itself.

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Man, it sounds like we grew up in the same house.

What's weird is that my parents didn't seem to harbor any racist feelings when I was very little. We moved to Glen Oaks when I was maybe 2 years old, in 69. It was a good neighborhood back then and we were just middle class white people living among similar people.

Then black families started to move in to Glen Oaks. Crime went up, houses began getting broken in to, my bike was stolen. Whites began to sell in a huge white flight move. My parents succumbed and we moved to Central. Still, I don't remember hearing my parents say much about it.

In Central in the late 70's it was a very rural, mostly white area. The schools were good, no crime, friendly place.

Then, in the summer between 8th and 9th grade, right before I went to high school, a federal judge desegregated Baton Rouge. Kids were bussed all over the city in order to "balance out the race numbers" among schools. Some of my best friends who grew up less than 2 miles from me were bussed to the other side of town to predominantly black schools. Black kids from those schools were bussed to Central.

It was a big deal, and hit everyone hard. It was at that point that I remember hearing my dad first say the N-word. And it went downhill from there. Of course I was affected by it. How could I not resent these black kids suddenly showing up, with their aggressive nature and foreign ways. They were victims of a shitty school system so they were behind in class. Teachers had to dumb down our course work. School sports suffered since these kids couldn't stay after class to practice.

The white kids resented the blacks, the blacks resented the whites. It was a terrible atmosphere to grow up in. And being Central, a lot of ignorant country redneck/coonass attitude didn't help matters.

I think all of that dynamic stuck in my psyche and I certainly had racist thoughts in high school and in to college.

In college, 4 of my best friends, two guys and two girls, were victims of a home invasion in their apartment by 5 black guys. They attempted rape on one of the girls, kidnapped and raped the other. They took her to a park and all 5 took turns on her. Then locked her in the trunk if the stolen car, set it on fire, and left. Luckily she kicked her way out.

What ever gains I'd made in not being racist were more than lost the next morning when my friend called me to tell me what had happened to them.

After college I moved away, grew older and wiser, and met and worked with people from all races. It took a LONG time to get over those racist thoughts and memories. Now, one of my best friends, a woman I love like a sister, is black and I don't know what I'd do without her in my life.

But every now and then. Like when I see a black thug with his pants sagging around his thighs and his flat bill on cocked.... When I hear the news of BLM bullshite, or a black guy raping someone, the thoughts and feelings seep back in.

It's a terrible thing to hate someone for the color of their skin. It's unfair and it's evil. But frick. Sometimes it's hard when it's in your face.

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Were you raised in a racist environment?

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Yes, but only to the peckerwood dagos and McPaddy potato eaters.

Yep. Livingston Parish back in the day.

You ever think there’s a difference in the worthless people and the decent ones?


People give a certain friggin word far too much credence when they should be looking at the context and meaning behind it

Not at all, thank goodness.