An open letter to racist individuals
Dear sirs/madams
There is something you should understand about America. Now, I don’t know what you think America is, what you know of it’s history, if you even care about learning of the fabricated dream, the terrible things that have been done for it’s sake. But what you must understand is that there have been terrible acts committed by our government against American citizens and citizens of other nations around the globe. I wonder what they teach about slavery to thirteen-year-old children, I can’t remember what they taught me. The basics are this, that colonialism and slave trading are deeply rooted in the American identity, and while you might never hurt someone, or even encounter someone of a different ethnicity than yourself, you are still part of the problem. Now I don’t want to start labeling people as “this way” or “that way”, but if you are racist, there is a simple way to tell. If you have no compassion for the way that scores of individuals and lynch mobs have exerted their power over thousands of black Americans, that is racist. If you actively seek to put down people of a minority population, that is also racist. If you believe yourself to be superior to other people, specifically people who are not white, and you act to antagonize or kill those people, that is racist. Now I didn’t say you can’t have good-natured jokes with friends, there is a difference between having a dark sense of humor, and actively trying to assert yourself over your fellow Americans.
Coates describes the fear he felt when a white woman pushed his son as a small child as a visceral experience, a kind of single that he could not protect his son. Now, while nothing happened, the people involved fail to see why this might be upsetting. I’m certain that woman would have been upset if someone had pushed her child in the same way, but she reacts defensively, as if pushing children is an acceptable behavior. No one else in the crowd he describes takes his side, a man tells him, “I could have you arrested.” How would you feel if someone pushed your child and didn’t apologize, and then suddenly a crowd of people are turning against you for being upset? How would you feel in that situation, knowing the history of your people, the hundreds of years of slavery, the struggle for equality afterwards, the thousands of people, your people, who had been murdered for no other reason than being born a certain color. This is the grim reality that the American Dream has fostered, this separation of peoples, the wool over your eyes that prevents you from seeing the truth. “White America is a syndicate…central to the belief in being white…without it, ‘white people’ would cease to exist…” ( 42).
American history is the history of people, aided by a belief that God made them special, who enforced a rule that their bodies were special, that their land was special, their animals, their friends; with no thought given to the people who already lived there. Their land wasn’t special until white people lived on it, their bodies were ugly and dark and worth less than pale white ones so killing them for scalps was okay. This was the early stage of the American dream, one that many people forget or are indifferent too, the idea that god made Americans great, “America understands itself as ‘god’s handiwork’, but the black body is the clearest evidence that America is the work of men.” (12). And on countless bodies a dream was founded, on a mountain of corpses people who are considered white (but only those with money) can live free. The rest of those who come here, who were brought here by force, are considered lesser, their bodies lesser. How is it that people forget so easily? You forget time and time again that your country systematically oppresses millions of its own citizens for the vast majority of it’s history, and continues to do so into the present? More people should be upset, you should be upset, upset because your country keeps people in poverty and by doing so is hurting you as well.
One of the ways that America has kept it’s black population is through the police force. While most officers are undoubtedly kind and unbiased, the funding they receive is dependent on a quota system of arrests. This means that, coupled with the severe punishments black Americans receive when tried and convicted, often times officers are encouraged to arrest black Americans. And when altercations turn violent, often times police officers are not held accountable. Coates talks about this when he addresses the issue of the police officer that killed his friend, “This officer, given maximum power, bore minimum responsibility. He was charged with nothing. He was punished by no one. He was returned to his work.”(80) Could you imagine your own malice that the murder of a dear friend, with no repercussions for the killer, would inspire within yourself? Could you imagine this feeling, amplified by years of the same? Of innocents murdered without the closure of justice? “I cannot remember what happened next…What I remember for sure is what I felt: rage…the old gravity of the void of West Baltimore…the void. Prince Jones had made it through, and still they had taken him.” (77).
It is imperative that Americans work harder to empathize with the plights of their fellow citizens. Our country is large, and it is tempting to forget about the other people that live in it, but doing so will only serve to hurt you in the long run. Inequality breeds poverty, and poverty hurts everyone. Try to put yourself in the shoes of a black American living in this country. 1 out of 5 of you will be imprisoned, will it be you? Your brother? Your friend? Keeping your nose clean didn’t work for everyone in your family, you have uncles that went away for next to nothing, beaten in the street for looking at someone wrong. And your own brethren, turned against you with fear, “The crews, the young men who’d transmuted their fear into rage, were the greatest danger.” (22). These are the reasons I write you today, to invoke your care, any sort of feeling or emotion from your fellow human beings.
