Because You Never Asked

     It would be difficult for any chicken soup philosopher living in the United States to not touch upon race relations. The United States is a multi-racial society. This means two things: 1) There will be racism, and 2) There will be progress in resolving these problems. Only a culture of such racial-ethnic diversity, a culture where these varying blood lines deal with each other regularly --- see each other, work with each other, come in contact with each other's talents, admire each other's "ho", etc. --- can ever come to grips with racial-ethnic prejudice. A truly sincere effort in fighting racism took way too long to happen in America, not really beginning until after WWII. But once the ball got rolling, this country has struggled valiantly with this problem, so much so that at least "officially", the United States can be considered a non-racist society. (See essay "Racism").

     But let's not be too superficial. Old habits die slowly and there is still much work to do in this context. We are moving in the right direction, but we are dragging some anchors that hold us back. Although I might consider this normal, it would be incorrect to say the problem still does not need to be monitored. Fortunately --- and this is an indication of our progress --- those who have traditionally been the victims of prejudice are strong enough to not let that happen. But if their guard ever came down, retro-racial attitudes would flow into this void more quickly than we might expect.

     Racism still stalks the human condition, even in a place like the United States, which could be considered enlightened in this area.

     I recently heard a terribly racist joke. I confess, I laughed and I laughed with gusto. If I must be honest (and I must, it's a problem of mine), I believe all people, deep down in the boiler room-basement of their minds, carry around some racial prejudice. Would I have been as fond of Larry Bird if he was just another black basketball star? But, at least with regard to my own conscience, I am far from being a racist.

     OK, although it might not be as effective put to paper, here is the joke: A Chinese guy walks into an all black bar, walks up to the bartender and says, "hey nigger, give me a drink." The bartender is stunned, but instead of getting violent, he says, "Look, I'm going to try and show you something. Let's change places; you become the bartender and I'll be the customer." They change places. The black guy walks up to the bar. "Hey Chink, give me a drink." The Chinese guy replies, "Sorry, we don't serve niggers here."

     Even in thinking about this joke in the most superficial way --- that is, without giving it the least intellectual attention --- there is something horribly degrading here for an Afro-American. But if we do give it some thought, it gets much worse.

     For one thing, the joke is perpetrated by a Chinese person, an ethnic group that was almost considered "semi-human" in this country for many generations, and given the lowly treatment such position would warrant. For an Afro-American, this further salts the wound of this joke. We can pour it on by mentioning that the black bartender takes an extremely civilized course of action. He tries to educate, to enlighten, to do the right thing . and he gets humiliated anyway! But even in a broader sense, if one truly scrutinizes the nature of this joke, we might as well take the top off the salt shaker and drop it all in.

     Once I began pondering the broader implications of this joke, the first thing I asked myself was if it could be as remotely funny using any other racial or ethnic group as its target? After awhile, I had to sadly admit the answer was "no". The Afro-American experience is so intimately tied to this kind of treatment, they almost go together like a pair of eyes. Certainly, "micks", "kikes", "dagos", "polacks", etc., have all been subject to some form of degradation, but a systematic denial of both public and private services is generally not a deeply rooted part of their identity. Even for the more racially distinguishable 3^rd world immigrants of more recent vintage, these barriers have been substantially broken down, mainly due to the stubborn work of the Afro-American. And this is yet another of the sad ironies of the black experience in America: Although no racial-ethnic group other than the almost extinct American Indian can claim greater longevity living here, they still suffer the scars of prejudice more than anyone.

     I am Jewish. My guilt in finding the joke so funny was such that I experimented with using my own ethnicity as the brunt of the joke, thus giving me the opportunity to tell it with a clear conscience. When one jokes about oneself, the result is much more acceptable.

     It just doesn't work.

     Certainly, if I may understate the matter, the Jewish people have had to deal with more than their fair share of ethnic persecution. Persecution is an integral part of the Jewish identity (see essay, "Shindler's List"). But the hatred for the Jew takes on a different personality than the racial prejudice felt by Black America. In general, Jews were never meant to feel inferior or less than human, at least not until the periodic outbursts against them had become reality. Whereas Blacks were despised almost in an evolutionary way, as if they were lesser animals, Jews have been resented (which could even mean some subconscious envy) by those idiotic enough to have such feelings. Their communities were usually prosperous, their children well educated, their culture intact and functioning well. Obviously, the fact that they don't believe in the same God as the ocean of people surrounding them is a good jumping off point for such resentment. When this resentment broke out of its cage, the results were horrifying, but there have never been separate water fountains for Jews, or separate waiting rooms, or bathrooms, nor has any Jew ever had to go to the back of a bus, as if their physical presence was something offensive or distasteful. Jews were playing in the Major Leagues long before anyone ever heard of Jackie Robinson. They've always owned property, they've always been able to vote, nobody has ever bought and sold them.

     No, try telling this joke using a Jew or any other ethnic group as its target; you will not get a laugh. Sad but true.

     Another question I put to myself was whether I knew any black person intimately enough to tell them the joke. I am friendly with a reasonable amount of black people. I work with a few; I've played tennis over a long period of time with a number of them, etc. I've been a high school basketball referee for more than 20 years, working primarily with Afro-Americans. One develops a very strong bond doing such a thing, at least on the court. And yet, I could not find the confidence to ever dare tell any black man this joke. I've been able to laugh at some Jewish jokes, as I'm sure Italians or Irish or Polish people have been able, to some extent, to accept some of the jokes made at their expense. But for now, this joke still seems way too close to where the bat meets the ball for a black man to feel comfortable with. It's just too much a part of their identity, their history, even their heritage (as is persecution for a Jew), to make light of face to face. 

     Further compounding my guilt is the fact that I've not only enjoyed this joke but I've told it to others. Does the fact that it is a very funny joke mitigate its offensiveness? No, of course not. Undoubtedly, the joke is funny because there is something very real here, something that actually portrays our culture with some degree of accuracy. If it is painful for a segment of our society, that pain is real, as is the racism underlying the joke's conception. Perhaps the most valuable thing I've learned from this joke is just how real it is. To wit:

     The half dozen or so times I've told this joke to others, it has never failed to get a laugh. Most people, like myself, show a bit of guilt, but it doesn't stop them from laughing. But there are also a healthy percentage of folks who show their true colors, who revel in the joke, as if the world has finally been put right. Both the joke teller and those who laughed give them the confidence to open up, as if we were all brothers in racism now. To hell with all this political correctness, goddamit, let's call a spade a spade. These people usually have a few racist jokes of their own to tell, or some political gripes --- did you hear Jessie Jackson going on again?, etc. --- to air out. Surprisingly enough, we are not talking about some "good ol' boy", tailgating rednecks, whooping it up for the Crimson Tide while gnawing on some barbecue. No. These attitudes have surfaced from people you'd have never suspected it from. It's as if you've suddenly found that your respectable next-door neighbor has a massive collection of child-porn in his basement.

     In what can only be seen as a remarkable alignment of the heavenly bodies, the Rush Limbaugh story, where he makes some racial remarks about black quarterbacks, hit the airwaves while I was writing this essay. The next essay I write will pertain to this incident and will be titled "Rush Eats Foot". It could be read in conjunction with this one.