I write this with a heavy heart. My father, a good man and father, whom I have adored my whole life is, I must finally admit, a racist.
He’s a lifelong democrat, an ex-union man, the quintessential swing voter and a racist.
When I was a teenager living in New York, I remember arguing with my Dad and accusing him of racism on more than one occasion. Through the years he has made comments that have offended me and I’ve told him so. But in my heart I just could not believe that he truly was a racist.
Twenty years ago I adopted my son from Korea. I hoped and prayed my father would accept him as his own grandson and I was so proud and relieved when he did. There was never any hesitation or doubt. So I rationalized that his occasional racist comments and jokes were just the result of where he grew up and the way he was raised in Queens, where many people to this day openly spew out racist comments. Dad is an Italian whose father hacked off the last two letters of his last name to make it sound like an English name. They suffered racism against Italians when growing up and to this day never acknowledges his Italian background.
But the day I adopted my son was the day I became acutely aware of the sting of racism. Overnight I became Korean myself, as I was now the mother of a Korean child. And many people do say cruel things under the guise of "just speaking the truth" or a "joke". It was an interesting transition. I became sensitive to bigoted statements (where I had not been before) and started to confront people on it whenever I heard it. Sadly, most people just don’t change no matter how much they offend you.
So this is a personal dilemma for me. I hate racists.
After my mom passed away, Dad started watching Bill O’Reilly. He turned from a fun- loving (racist) man into a real hard ass. I sent him a letter telling him so. I finally wrestled him away from O’Reilly, only to have him jump to Glen Beck. Now it’s Lou Dobbs. All this time though, he still referred to the Republicans as "those bastards". At one point, before Obama even became a contender, he told me he liked Hillary. His ingenious plan now? To vote democratic in all races, except president. He’s going to vote for McCain.
When he dropped this bomb on me, I felt like I’d been gut-punched. I’ve been keeping my distance from him lately. I have a draft of a letter I’m sending to him. In the meantime I spoke to him and let him know how I felt, that I believed he was making this decision based on race. No denial or remorse. I’m appalled, saddened, and profoundly disappointed that he would rather vote based on the color of a person’s skin than on the issues. And there are so many issues that directly affect my family members; stagnating wages, health care, gas and food prices. Still, it’s the color of the skin.
A few weeks ago, when this first happened, I thought white working class racists might be a potential problem for Obama. Now it is obvious that indeed they will be. And the media is helping it along, stoking the fires of racism and hatemongering. They’ve sunk to a new low and they must be held accountable.
Man, what year is it? 1958 or 2008? We’re going backwards and it’s happening fast.
I will not let this drop and will never let Dad off the hook, right up to the election and beyond. In our conversation I reminded him that although he is a better church go-er than I am, when I get to the pearly gates I want to be able to say I did all I could to alleviate pain and suffering in the world. And, has he ever thought about what color Jesus’ skin might be? Ha! That really struck a nerve!
I’m not sure what to do now. This has caused a rift in a relationship with someone, who at 79 years old, might not be here much longer. But for now I’m at a loss.
And yes, I fault the Clinton campaign for opening the floodgates and cynically appealing to white racists, effectively signaling the media that it was A-OK. There will be a backlash. And it won’t just be from the black community.