Some nasty language here, fair warning.
I live just off the Washington State University campus. My wife is the store manager at a local store, and since they open late on Sundays, we had a rather pleasant morning. She made french toast. We decided to take her to work early so I could grab some stuff for Halloween. We have an Obama/Biden sticker on the back of our straight pimpin' Geo Prizm. On the way through campus, we were passed by a truck with Idaho plates. The passenger leans out when passing and says "Obama fucking sucks!" But I guess that wasn't enough.
As we continued through campus, we came to a stop at a red light. The passenger in the truck leans out his window again and says "Hey, what's up nigger? NIGGER LOVER!" (that's a paraphrase... the truck was really loud.) My kids had watched Chicken Little that morning, so the only thing I could really do was shout "Don't go breaking my heart." Which to be honest was simply meant to confuse him, and it worked.
As we finished the ride to the store, my wife asked "did he say what I think he said?" I told her that yes, and we weren't going to talk about it with the kids in the car, which we didn't. After I dropped her and the kids off so they could pick out some books, I made my way to Moscow to start shopping.
While there, I ran into a friend of mine who I haven't seen in almost a year - he's actually a student that I was a TA for way back when, so I was glad for the distraction. Eventually I told him what happened. He just shook his head and said "Man, I was out at a restaurant with my girlfriend and some guy in the parking lot called me a race traitor." His girlfriend's mother is Japanese, her father is Dutch (there's a Blazing Saddles joke here somewhere). He asked if I got the plate number, I said yes but why would that matter? He reminded me of Pullman's Fighting Ordinance (.pdf warning), which essentially makes it a crime to use language which is intended to provoke fear or that would lead to violence.
I said I would think about it. I didn't get much shopping done.
I've never agreed with this particular law. It wasn't written by our city council, it was written by our former chief of police. It wasn't supported by the police, in fact a few of the Pullman police are on the record as saying they were never asked, nor do they think it's necessary. I don't think police should be put in the position where they are writing laws - as much as I realize this is a pipe-dream, I would prefer that police remain out of the legislative process entirely. But that's not the point.
The point is this: I couldn't very well say "Well, I don't agree with this law, but just this ONE time, I'll use it to my advantage because I somehow feel victimized." So what was I left with? Was there no recourse? My mind drifted a little, and I found myself coming back to the issue of free speech. What does it really mean to be free, to say what you want? Is it possible to imagine how I would feel if I didn't look white? What should I tell my children, or my friends, many of whom are not white? I'm so confused at this point that I sort of stopped in the housewares section and just thought for a while. I did find a rug on clearance. It has apples on it.
What am I willing to give up so that people can insult or attempt to intimidate me? I still don't know the answer, because every time I think I've come to some sort of grand conclusion, there's a voice in the back of my head that says "Yes, but what price for you, what price for him?"
I can't even begin to imagine what this would have felt like if I were black. I could write paragraphs about what it might feel like, but it would only be an approximation, probably not even a good approximation. That, I suppose, is yet another example of what is known as white privilege: I'll never know how it feels to be called that, to your face, by a complete stranger.
I may not like what this person had to say, and it may have made me angry, but I can't shake the fact that once he loses his right to be offensive, I'll lose mine too.
That's sort of a ramble and I apologize for said ramblings. That's just how I ramble.