In the 1990’s, the suburban city where I live experienced a boom in home building. With the economic uptick came migrant Latinos to perform back breaking labor. These were jobs that white people seemed unlikely to be willing to take on. To be sure, these Hispanics worked cheap and worked hard. After a time, some of them left when the economic bubble popped and many of the the jobs were no longer available. From the beginning, they kept to themselves and I have to say that I never sought to interject myself into their social activities I’m certain they kept within themselves. I’m sure I might have been out of place in their company. They wanted to be separate but equal, or so it seemed. What is true that we have resegregated ourselves back over a hundred years, but the dream of a color-blind society is still a fantasy, a dream deferred.
Our lily white community was, mostly, rocked. Blacks began to settle in a particular portion of town, mostly in apartments, where the rent was cheaper. A large part of this moving was to enrich the talent level of the high school football team. When I played, twenty years ago, almost all the players were white. Now they’re mostly black. But here’s the rub. The same people who would never invite a black family into their homes, will cheer like mad if their team wins another State Championship with African-American players. I’ve always been struck with the irony of it all.
The school system had to take into account thousands of English as a Second Language students, and to re-educate the poor, mostly minorities. The city schools the black kids came from were abysmal. It is obvious that these students needed extra help to get them up to snuff in the classroom. Three years after I graduated, a fatal stabbing in a hallway occurred. Crime had come to town finally, and many were quick to blame the immigrants of all colors. White residents put burglar bars on their downstairs doors, anticipating the worst. It is true that armed robbery is on the rise in our town, and that most of the offenders are black. But this is too easy an explanation. It takes complicated philosophies and deeds to address the results of poverty.
I’m not sure what tact to take. Black folks surely are a convenient scapegoat for many. And as we can tell now, our current administration has looked for migrants and Hispanics as a means of pointing fingers in their direction, to wit, the enemy. But I can tell you that any of these migrants could play winning basketball, they would be ushered in as quickly as possible. The minute their talent dried up, they’d be instantly deported. This is not a new concept. Ancient Rome used the same tactics when it came to select a new gladiator.
Nature versus Nurture. The age-old quandary manifests itself again. Are these black kids a victim of circumstance, or have parents who don’t do any adequate job in reinforcing what is taught in school (or what is not taught in school). Whites feel threatened and intimidated by blacks, seeing people of color after their own goods and property. How do we educate both whites and black about better ways to communicate with each other. I believe that times are getting better, believe it or not, compared to where we were forty years ago. But many of the problems still remain.
I’m not wise enough to figure out a very complicated problems that people have been working on for decades. Jesus said that the poor will always be with us. And if that is true, this is an eternal problem. But in the meantime, everyone wants to be safe, to get right down to it. They see a need for the police, but lament the brutality that is often perpetrated by white cops against black suspects. This is why I have never felt that the Black Lives Matter movement goes far enough.
It is much easier to hide in our own corners of the boxing rink than engagement. It is much easily to kick the can down the road again, and again, and again.
I go to Civil Rights rallies
And I put down the old D.A.R.
I love Harry and Sidney and Sammy
I hope every colored boy becomes a star
But don't talk about revolution
That's going a little bit too far
So love me, love me, love me, i'm a liberal
I vote for the Democratic party
They want the UN to be strong
I go to all the Pete Seeger concerts
He sure gets me singing those songs
I'll send all the money you ask for
But don't ask me to come on along
So love me, love me, love me, i'm a liberal
-Phil Ochs