Abyss
I am, as I write, looking at a photograph that was taken in December 1995. Seated in various positions upon each other, and a sofa, are seven of my loved ones. Three generations are represented: my loving friend, my youngest son (in Illinois), his son and daughter, along with two of his nieces and a nephew.
Remembering experiences can be very painful. The past is often a very unpleasant place. On the other hand, when those memories are shared with younger generations, they can serve to clarify many things that those generations could not entirely understand.
The son in Illinois is entering his 30s and has travelled the globe, so he has a good grasp of the USA's deeply structured bigotry, but he cannot know my experiences as I do. Likewise his children, nieces and nephews cannot know his experiences as he does. Therefore, in large part, this writing is for them.
When I was this son's age, while searching for employment, I walked through Salisbury, North Carolina. I went to its steel and textile mills, brick kilns, furniture factories and slaughter houses (the latter often need extra hide- pullers to remove the skins from beef carcasses). Unfortunately, no help was needed at any of those places while I was there. After being roundly turned down I hitchhiked back to the roadway so that I could continue my search for employment elsewhere. My hunger led me to stop at a restaurant.
I sat down at a table near the dining room's entrance. With the exception of one diner, the room was empty. He never stopped eating his meal. When I looked at the menu, being down to my last $5, I chose the least expensive offering which was the "Salisbury Steak Lunch Special"; at $3.95 it was all that I could afford.
A perky young white waitress came over to take my order. After she had written everything down on her note pad, in the most courteous southern drawl you can imagine, she leaned over the table as if to whisper into my ear. She said, "Now this is just a suggestion, mind you, but if you eat this meal in the kitchen out back with the help it will only cost you one dollar. I mean that is what most of our coloureds do; they eat in the kitchen." She went on to tell me politely that she would serve me in the dining room if I chose to "... eat in here, but it will be a whole lot cheaper in the kitchen".
Despite my hunger and growing anger, I got up quietly and left, but not before walking around to the side entrance, to enter and see the tiny kitchen for myself. As I walked through the screen door I encountered a middle aged African-American, who obviously was the cook. He immediately invited me to sit at the small table, and when I declined, he said (sensing my anger), "Now son, it ain't what you think. These ain't bad folks, they just like for us to eat back here."
Having long since lost my appetite, without saying a word I turned and left. I did not eat until I arrived in Washington, DC, the next day.
Beware of bigots and their apologists (the latter come in all colours.) You will soon find out that one is just as dangerous and misguided as the other. So that you can better know them both, keep this shared experience in your heart and remember that (for African-Americans) the USA is a perpetual
Crime Scene
The bigot always has a helper, blind and true
You must be very careful that (s)he is not you
Racism, America's abyss, is extremely easy to fall into
The bigot always has a helper, blind and true
Protect yourself, and our loved ones, in all that you do
Prejudice leaves no fingerprints, to be detected daily anew
The bigot always has a helper, blind and true
You must be very careful that (s)he is not you.
[The writer is a prisoner on death row in the United States. He is happy to answer letters commenting on his columns. He can be written to at: Brandon Astor Jones, EF-122216, G2-51, GD&CC, PO Box 3877, Jackson, GA 30233, USA. Brandon's childhood autobiography is available in booklet form for $16, including postage. Every cent raised will go towards defending his life. Please make cheques payable to the Brandon Astor Jones Defence Account and post to 10 Palara Place, Dee Why NSW 2099. Donations to the Brandon Astor Jones Defence Account may be made at any Commonwealth Bank, account No. 2127 1003 7638.]