Big “T” and Little “t” Truths in Uncivil Times

I grew up in the 70s and came of age in the 80s. Pre-political correctness. Which means I’ve never been interested in glossing over what people really think with some false veneer of civility that obscures more than it reveals.

In my experience, that is dangerous.

I’ve experienced extreme forms of racism in my life. Have been called nigger countless times. Have been in physical fights in neighborhoods and on playgrounds. Heckled racially by entire classrooms in Oklahoma and Illinois in the 70s. Was on a diverse basketball team coming from a diverse, military school district and among the first live black people entire towns had ever seen in Washington State in HS. In the 80s.

I’ve been the first black American in university departments of Geography; subjected to drive-by racism, debates and arguments in the 90s during the fabled Flame Wars. As a result of these experiences, I’ve had to fight ignorance on the streets, in the classroom, boardroom and the academy, and I ain’t trying to pretend this world ain’t what it is in no way, shape or form.

I’d much rather someone hate to my face. Honestly.

Glaring at me through machines while working at an automobile factory, shooting at me with their index finger while racing me on a highway through Houston, giving me and my sometimes white girlfriends the evil eye in different cities and states in this beautiful, dangerous country of ours.