Tolerating opinions of family members

[+ WilliamM]

and you keep jumping from one subject to another...

 

You have good days and bad days like today.

@marylander1940, you already have twice a many post as anyone else.

[+ Charlie]

I was born and raised in a small northern suburb that was 100% white. I was an only child of older lower middle class parents who were fairly conservative Republicans (they thought Eisenhower was too liberal) and their lives revolved around the Episcopal church. I really had no idea what racism was, because my parents and neighbors never expressed any openly racist ideas. My first personal exposure to any black person came when I was sent one summer to stay with my maternal grandmother, who lived in a a small town on the Hudson River in upstate New York. Her only neighbor was Edna McGinnis, a middle-aged black woman, who I discovered was also her best friend there. Then I discovered that the house in which my grandmother lived had been a station on the "underground railroad" before the Civil War, and escaped slaves had been hidden in a secret room in the house. Edna was a great story-teller, she often invited me over for lunch, and it was the first time that black people became real for me. When I returned home, I talked a lot about Nana's friend Edna, but my parents just listened and made no comment.

 

I never had any interaction with a black person my own age until I went away to college. It was a small liberal arts school with only a handful of middle-class black students who tended to stick together, but one of them was in a couple of the same classes with me; we had the same interests and tastes, and he soon became my closest friend at school. I also suspected that he was gay, which he was, although he didn't realize it yet. Through David I got to know the other black students at school, and sometimes we all did things together where I realized I was the only white person in the group. He lived in a town near mine, and when we traveled home together for holidays, I introduced him to my parents, and they never commented about his race (or about the fact that his parents were more educated than they were and lived in a better suburb).

 

My parents' best friends were a couple from our church, whom I knew and liked. I was a senior in college when the man was transferred to a job in Newport News, Virginia, and we went to visit and stay with them. At dinner that night, the man started to talk about their new town, and he said the best thing about the neighborhood was that, "The police make sure the niggers stay in their own neighborhood at night and don't come over here." I was stunned. My parents looked uncomfortable but didn't say anything. These were people I had always looked up to, and we were guests in their home, so I didn't know what to do, and I followed my parents' lead and stayed silent. But the next day I told my parents that I wanted to leave, and they understood why I was upset, but my father said, "That's just the way Ernest is. He says things like that because he grew up in Bermuda where it was normal to talk about black people that way." Maybe, but my grandmother also grew up in Bermuda, and I never heard her say anything like that. My father said he'd make an excuse for us to leave later that day, which we did. My parents' relationship with the couple withered naturally because of the geographical separation, and I managed to avoid ever seeing them again, but I learned from the experience that my parents were not openly racist themselves, but they could accept people who were.

 

I certainly did not accept the lesson to just ignore what people said, but I did learn that bigotry is not the only defining aspect of a person, so I have had friends with whom I disagree about race, religion and politics, and will tell them so, but I don't necessarily expect them to change, and it doesn't mean the end of the friendship unless the person becomes so attached to his or her bias that it does become their only defining aspect. Four years ago I was shocked to discover that one of my oldest and dearest friends was an active Trump supporter, although nothing in her background would have suggested that to me. We still communicate weekly, tiptoeing around politics, because we both know that we won't change one another's mind. Another of my longtime friends eventually became one of my mother's good friends in her old age, because he was also a Republican and an active Episcopalian; he was also gay and black. On the other hand, my friend David, with whom I remained friends for about ten years after college--he even moved in with me for awhile--eventually became a "race man" and pretty much cut me out of his life because I was "too white." So it goes.

[+ WilliamM]

I was born and raised in a small northern suburb that was 100% white. I was an only child of older lower middle class parents who were fairly conservative Republicans (they thought Eisenhower was too liberal) and their lives revolved around the Episcopal church. I really had no idea what racism was, because my parents and neighbors never expressed any openly racist ideas. My first personal exposure to any black person came when I was sent one summer to stay with my maternal grandmother, who lived in a a small town on the Hudson River in upstate New York. Her only neighbor was Edna McGinnis, a middle-aged black woman, who I discovered was also her best friend there. Then I discovered that the house in which my grandmother lived had been a station on the "underground railroad" before the Civil War, and escaped slaves had been hidden in a secret room in the house. Edna was a great story-teller, she often invited me over for lunch, and it was the first time that black people became real for me. When I returned home, I talked a lot about Nana's friend Edna, but my parents just listened and made no comment.

 

I never had any interaction with a black person my own age until I went away to college. It was a small liberal arts school with only a handful of middle-class black students who tended to stick together, but one of them was in a couple of the same classes with me; we had the same interests and tastes, and he soon became my closest friend at school. I also suspected that he was gay, which he was, although he didn't realize it yet. Through David I got to know the other black students at school, and sometimes we all did things together where I realized I was the only white person in the group. He lived in a town near mine, and when we traveled home together for holidays, I introduced him to my parents, and they never commented about his race (or about the fact that his parents were more educated than they were and lived in a better suburb).

 

My parents' best friends were a couple from our church, whom I knew and liked. I was a senior in college when the man was transferred to a job in Newport News, Virginia, and we went to visit and stay with them. At dinner that night, the man started to talk about their new town, and he said the best thing about the neighborhood was that, "The police make sure the niggers stay in their own neighborhood at night and don't come over here." I was stunned. My parents looked uncomfortable but didn't say anything. These were people I had always looked up to, and we were guests in their home, so I didn't know what to do, and I followed my parents' lead and stayed silent. But the next day I told my parents that I wanted to leave, and they understood why I was upset, but my father said, "That's just the way Ernest is. He says things like that because he grew up in Bermuda where it was normal to talk about black people that way." Maybe, but my grandmother also grew up in Bermuda, and I never heard her say anything like that. My father said he'd make an excuse for us to leave later that day, which we did. My parents' relationship with the couple withered naturally because of the geographical separation, and I managed to avoid ever seeing them again, but I learned from the experience that my parents were not openly racist themselves, but they could accept people who were.

 

I certainly did not accept the lesson to just ignore what people said, but I did learn that bigotry is not the only defining aspect of a person, so I have had friends with whom I disagree about race, religion and politics, and will tell them so, but I don't necessarily expect them to change, and it doesn't mean the end of the friendship unless the person becomes so attached to his or her bias that it does become their only defining aspect. Four years ago I was shocked to discover that one of my oldest and dearest friends was an active Trump supporter, although nothing in her background would have suggested that to me. We still communicate weekly, tiptoeing around politics, because we both know that we won't change one another's mind. Another of my longtime friends eventually became one of my mother's good friends in her old age, because he was also a Republican and an active Episcopalian; he was also gay and black. On the other hand, my friend David, with whom I remained friends for about ten years after college--he even moved in with me for awhile--eventually became a "race man" and pretty much cut me out of his life because I was "too white." So it goes.

 

I don't particularly care about a friend's political views, including support of Frank Rizzo and Donald Trump. I am not surprised you mentioned it.

[MikeBiDude]

Huh? You aren't the hall monitor.

?

[+ WilliamM]

It’s an honor when you dedicate your daily post to me pretending to still ignore me.

 

You told me to "stay on topic, even though you did not start this thread/topic.

[+ g56whiz]

Most racist people are poor...

 

The poorest regions in the country constantly vote conservative, racism and xenophobia is used as a way to convince them to vote against their own interest because of fear of others.

Sorry @marylander1940. Too broad a generalization. Classism can be as dangerous as racism.

[+ purplekow]

This has been an interesting thread but if the two tom cats clawing at each other persist, I will request the thread be closed. No need for either of you to take your issues to this particular public forum.

Just as an addendum to my relationship with my sister, when we were teens, I was 10 she was 16 I came home to find her crying. When I asked her why, she said the doctor for whom she had been working fired her. I knew her to be a hard worker and I asked her why she was fired. She said that she had been about 10 minutes late and that he yelled at her and pushed her. Infuriated, I prepared to head to his office. I asked her what she did when he did that, she said, I called him a stupid K.ke." I was floored. I also lost all my anger for him, though I probably should not have and directed it all to her. I was horrified that she would use that term. She yelled at me but he pushed me. I said, "you weren't hurt and you could have just left at that point". Believe me I would be on my way to his office right now if you did. But I can not defend you, even after his terrible action when you responded with such a vile attack".

So, thoughts on this?

[+ sync]

Anyone recently tried some of the boys at Tokyo Kids? Are these young men really as hot as they look on their pictures?

 

https://kids-jp.com/en/tk/s/

 

They now have branches in other parts of the country.

Tokyo, Yokohama, Nagoya, Osaka, Fukuoka

What I really like about their website and service is that the rules are extremely clear (even though written in not so good English).

 

I may be able to go soon.

This has been an interesting thread but if the two tom cats clawing at each other persist, I will request the thread be closed. No need for either of you to take your issues to this particular public forum.

Just as an addendum to my relationship with my sister, when we were teens, I was 10 she was 16 I came home to find her crying. When I asked her why, she said the doctor for whom she had been working fired her. I knew her to be a hard worker and I asked her why she was fired. She said that she had been about 10 minutes late and that he yelled at her and pushed her. Infuriated, I prepared to head to his office. I asked her what she did when he did that, she said, I called him a stupid K.ke." I was floored. I also lost all my anger for him, though I probably should not have and directed it all to her. I was horrified that she would use that term. She yelled at me but he pushed me. I said, "you weren't hurt and you could have just left at that point". Believe me I would be on my way to his office right now if you did. But I can not defend you, even after his terrible action when you responded with such a vile attack".

So, thoughts on this?

So many times doing/saying the "right" thing is neither popular nor easy. I believe you handled it in a good way.

[+ Italiano]

I don't particularly care about a friend's political views, including support of Frank Rizzo and Donald Trump. I am not surprised you mentioned it.

In the past I never had a problem with a friend (very very few, I have to say) being Republican, unless there was something that had to do with being judgmental or bigot on their part. But right now I could not tolerate a friend supporting POS 45, or admiring a racist like Rizzo.

I can't.