Racism Was Everywhere In My Hometown Growing Up; Have Things Changed?
It doesn’t look like it to me.
Growing up in Mississippi was certainly a mixed-bag experience. On one hand, I was taught about godly values, patriotism, and caring for others — but on the other, I was taught not all people are exactly… people. And no, this teaching wasn’t outright instruction on racism. It was much more subtle and slighted. It was a continuous hum echoing through the soul of Mississippi culture. It was home-grown, dug deep into the soil, a stain on our local humanity.
With both direct warnings (and indirect murmurs) against certain associations with black people, the clear disdain was obvious. Any child submerged in this culture certainly absorbs their own warped views on the world and its people. I remember getting into an argument with a young black student named Deanna when we were in junior high. I can’t recall what the disagreement was about, but I clear as day remember my response. And I regret every word.
Why don’t you just get back on that boat you came from — and go back to Africa?!
The words came automatically. I had never spoken evil like this before, and I couldn’t recall having heard something this distinct before. But I must have heard this somewhere though, obviously, from general interactions in the town I lived in.
Deanna looked at me with a certain, measured mercy and sadness as if she knew something I did not. And she did. I don’t recall the exact words she spoke to me, but they were filled with resolve and forgiveness simultaneously. In that moment, I realized that I had said something in ignorance — and inspired by evil. I was shocked and ashamed at what I had become.
From that point forward, I questioned everything.
I questioned why there weren’t many black people at my church.
I questioned why I didn’t have any black friends.
I questioned my heritage and mindset when conversations about the confederate flag came up.
I questioned why Mississippi voted to keep that same confederate flag as its official symbol.
I questioned why I hadn’t heard of the “Free State of Jones” even though I attended Jones County Community College.
I questioned why Forrest County still held the name of the infamous Confederate Brigadier General and first Grand Wizard of the Klu Klux Klan — Nathan Bedford Forrest.
I questioned the Federal Government’s decisions in Mississippi during the reconstruction period that allowed the Jim Crow Era to spring up.
Things haven’t changed.
Fast forwarding to today, I’m questioning how people can vote for a woman who makes open jokes about public hangings, offhand, simply because she’s a Republican and pro-Trump. Cindy Hyde-Smith’s recent viral video shows her joking that she’d be on the front row should a supporter she was campaigning with invite her to a “public hanging.” Hyde-Smith quickly followed this infamous moment with a joke about voter suppression.
We all know that this can be a defining moment for Mississippi, one way or another.
Hyde-Smith is being challenged by Mike Espy for her US Senate seat. Mr. Espy, a Democrat, served previously as the US Secretary of Agriculture and as a US Congressman serving Mississippi’s Second Congressional District. When Espy was elected to Congress in 1987, he became both the first African American and person from the Deep South to hold that position since the Reconstruction.
In 1987, I can only imagine what racial slurs and campaign lies his opponents used. But in 2018, his opponent making jokes about public hangings is truly sickening. Mississippi comes in a close 2nd next to Georgia in tallying the total number of lynching victims in the south between 1877 to 1950. There should be no confusion: jokes about hangings aren’t acceptable. I can’t imagine that politicians in Poland make jokes about gas chambers or concentration camps and get away with it.
Now I’m not a Democrat, nor am I a Republican. But I am a believer that we can be smarter than to believe the lies spread daily through crappy memes and biased outlets. Your choice matters—and Mississippi, you have a choice to make on November 27.
Show the world that it’s a new day, or show the world that times haven’t changed all that much. We’re watching — and not so silently judging your choices.
The choice to speak up or not isn’t an option anymore.