Am I a Racist?

There have been a lot of conversations this past week about racism in the media as Martin Luther King Jr. is remembered and celebrated. He said, “But I'm here to say to you this morning that some things are right and some things are wrong. Eternally so, absolutely so. It's wrong to hate. It always has been wrong and it always will be wrong.” Hating someone because of the color of their skin or their ancestry seems so bizarre in 2019 but I think it’s important to look in the mirror and evaluate the thoughts and intents of our hearts. What do I know about racism?

Growing up in a small town in the Adirondack Mountains (my favorite place on Earth BTW) – I didn’t really understand it. It didn’t really affect my life. There weren’t very many folks with different skin colors. I ran in to a few bigots but most of them were from out of town. I remember one woman calling black people the N word. I remember her saying, “I have more respect for her for marrying a white man. I can understand that. Marrying up. I have no respect for him marrying a black woman. White trash.” That’ll take you by surprise, eh? Did she really just say that out loud? I think that woman was a racist.

Then I got to college. That was a little different. There were a lot of students from downstate and they were all different colors. I got to be good friends, and then roommates with, a kid from Brooklyn. They called him Shaq but he reminded me of Magic Johnson and he was Dominican.

He was funny, full of life, and boy could he ball. He was quick, unselfish, and he could dunk on anyone. That’s why they nicknamed him Shaq. I admired some killer fakes he had perfected. He would put the ball between his legs then fake up. It worked every time. Made guys look silly as he scored. I ran with him quite a bit until I got fat. He listened to Wu Tang Clan, Biggie, Janet Jackson, I think the Beastie Boys (although I seem to remember mostly white suburban guys blasting that), and some classic rock. I remember asking him, “you listen to classic rock?” He just laughed at me, “What?” One day we were talking about TV shows. He loved The Jeffersons. But he also loved The Honeymooners, Knight Rider, and the Dukes of Hazard. I remember just blurting out in laughter, “You liked The Dukes of Hazard? How does that happen? There is even a rebel flag on the car...” I’ll never forget his response, “What are you talking about bro? Everyone was jumping over the front of cars and in through the windows in Brooklyn. We all wanted to be Bo and Luke Duke!!! And Daisy Duke bro. Daisy Duke...” I still smile thinking of it. I think he knew every episode of the Honeymooners. I had never heard of the Honeymooners. He would laugh and laugh.

He also bowed his head and asked God to bless his food every time we sat down to eat. His mom had made sure of that. And he put jelly on everything - things that ought not to have jelly on them. I learned a lot about folks with different skin colors, from him and many others since. I also learn a lot about myself.

I remember teachers and professors with an evolutionary world view essentially explaining Darwin’s theory - “On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, or the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life”. I remember thinking, does everyone realize what this means? Maybe I can make sense of all of this - if I were smarter and more scholarly. It kinda made sense if you’re looking for an intellectual justification or at least a rationalization of racism or trying to eliminate God.

I remember my buddy Montana - a big old brown man. When someone would refer to him as black he would grab the skin on his arm and ask, “Does this look black to you? This is brown! This is brown.” We talked doctrine, ministry, and evangelism. I would bust his chops a lot and he would always open his Bible and admonish me, “See here in Ephesians 5 - the Lord does not want us jesting!” He walked most everywhere unless he could catch a ride with someone. He always prayed fervently that the Lord would take out the porn shops and strip clubs that he had to walk by around town. One night we learned that one of them had burned to the ground. I couldn’t help but wonder, seriously, if Montana had a hand in it - but he swore he was somewhere else.

Back in the day when we were going to change the world we had a teenage girl that lived with us. I’m pretty much sure that she hated most white people. I think she may have been a little bit racist. She called us, “you people” refusing to use our names. She was born in to an environment that trained her this way. As you can imagine we didn’t have the best relationship with her. She especially disliked my white wife. My white wife was an idiot.

I remember walking in to the barber shop in the city to get my son’s hair cut. It was a tad bit freaky for me. I felt like they were all looking at me funny. Not smile funny or crazy funny – more like what on earth are you doing here funny. They didn’t say a word to me for a very long time. I finally spoke up softly, “Uh… can you make my son look good please.” I remember that visit started freaky and it ended freaky and I was happy that it was over. Was the uncomfortable interaction because of our different skin tones or was it just because I “wasn’t from around there?” Maybe a little bit of both. I’m not sure.

I remember walking in to another barber shop some time later when my son desperately needed a haircut. This time it started freaky but ended nice. They all looked at me funny at first but after a few seconds I heard a jolly, “Big Pete Farrell!” boom out of the corner chair. Once my eyes adjusted to the lighting I could see it was one of the guys I played basketball with in men’s league. He is one of the friendliest people I know. He embraced me and everyone seemed cool after that. “Come back – aw’ight?” Aw’ight, you bet. You see how simply being friendly can be so awesome?

I remember taking one of my kids in foster care to state prison to see his father. Now that was a bit freaky. His father did not like white people. And he especially loathed the fact that his son’s caseworker was white and his son was living with white people. This father loved his son and his son loved him back. They had a great visit. I was a little afraid to be locked behind multiple sets of bars with them. This dad was a very big man and he talked real fast with a peering look in his eye - daring me to say something stupid. He could have popped my head like pimple. I don’t remember saying anything other than, “Yes sir.” I think he may have liked me.

I went without my family to a city rec. center for a Christmas celebration last month. I was invited to check out what was going on and begin to pray about how we can get involved with what they are doing. I sat at one of the tables with a group of young kids. They were telling each other jokes about me and laughing and pointing at me for a little while. Then I shared a picture of my family with them on my phone. They were direct, “Those black kids yours?” “You adopt them?” After that their faces seemed to soften for the rest of the night. They had a lot of fun telling me they were going to blow me out in basketball. I assured them that they would not score - at all. I think we were cool by the end of the night.

We have noticed over the years that if I’m out with my kids, without my wife, women always seem to greet me with a warm smile. On the other hand, when my wife is out she gets some of the ugliest looks from the same women. Good times.

I have been influenced by writers like Thomas Sowell, Walter E. Williams, Larry Elder, and others over the years but it’s impossible for me to have firsthand knowledge or understanding of what it’s like to be a black man in America. To know that a few years ago my family was enslaved by your family. I’ve never dealt with segregation and the challenges that our institutions and policies have created for black men. I have been trying to understand the reasons for and the impact of affirmative action and other policies related to race. I find my opinion is usually based on the leanings of the last person I read. I’ve been a minority in Japan but that is nowhere close to the same thing. Although I was treated differently and some older WWII men scowled and spit at me and called me “Gaijin”, I don’t recall ever feeling freaked out about anything. AFAIK, white folks were not slaves in the south of Japan.

We are all shaped and formed by these experiences. We’re not born bigots but we are born with the potential. Racism and bigotry are symptomatic issues. They are symptoms of our worldview. Even this morning someone mentioned their time living in the midwest, “The KKK was huge there.” But Truth changes a man. You begin to realize that one’s dislike, mistrust, or hatred for people based on the color of their skin or their ancestry is stupid and harmful. A mental disorder. You realize that a worldview shaped and born out of evolution – that time plus matter plus chance produced all we know - strips all of us of our intrinsic value given to each of us by God - and it fuels racism in everyone.

I like to think that I am colorblind when it comes to the human race. I also like to think that my children have been inoculated from racism and racist thoughts, intentions, and actions but we’ll have to wait and see. All of my children are who they are in part because of their biological parents and the genetic design that they have inherited but none of them are inferior or superior to anyone based on the color of their skin or their parents, regardless of their worldview.

Pride and ignorance make us feel superior but Truth changes a man. One man at a time.

The Bible says in Genesis 1:27 that we are created in the image of God: “So God created man in his [own] image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.”

One of the most beautiful truths in the universe is the fact that “God is no respecter of persons” (Acts 10:34). My relationship with God does not depend on my wealth, my ancestry, where I was born, or the color of my skin. “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” (John 3:16). The genuine love of God sacrifices and gives regardless of all of the things that separate us from one another.

Most of us are freaked out in uncomfortable situations or unknowns until truth enters. It’s important to have open, honest, conversations with people, discussing our relationships and the policies and issues of our day, but it’s more important to examine myself – to look in the mirror and ask direct questions. Am I a racist? Am I a bigot? How can I improve myself and influence the world around me for the better? Hatred is never OK.

I like to think that I am colorblind like Jesus but I think that I would have to be quite literally blind and have my memory wiped clean to not generalize about all people groups. Even then - after enough time passes I’ll probably begin to generalize again...

The only thing that I am sure of is that the closer I get to Jesus, the more I surrender to the Holy Spirit, the more genuine, sacrificial, love, care, justice, and compassion will ooze out of me towards everyone. I will not have to try harder to be colorblind – I will supernaturally, awesomely, love everyone.

Skin tone is part of who we are but our identity and intrinsic worth is in Christ. Even if you reject Him - He loves you and seeks you. The Truth will soften the hardest of men. Bigots or not.

Peter