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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781504917964 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
| Publication date: | 10/16/2015 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 112 |
| File size: | 894 KB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Trained to Hate But Designed to Love
By Accuracy
AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2015 AccuracyAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-5049-1794-0
CHAPTER 1
CHILDHOOD
I grew up in China, a very small town in Texas. It is the county seat, where you get licenses, vote, and pay taxes. China sits fifty-four miles north of Bile, Texas, and 150 miles northeast of Newsome, Texas. The town is home to approximately 1,200 residents. The breakdown of the population by race in 2000 was 802 whites (61 percent), 383 blacks (32.1 percent), five American Indian and Alaskan (0.4 percent).
When you look at the population and the breakdown by race, you can determine that this is typical of the population in rural towns of America. The terminology is changing from rural towns to suburban towns, but the concept is the same — fewer minorities, better schools, safer communities, and a sense of neighborhood.
China is a town built on a strategy of division, and it's not indicative of the strategies throughout this country. From the sixties until the early nineties, China's minority community lived in a part of town separated by railroad tracks from the white community, and between the three main streets. The community was and still is surrounded by the white community. The white community calls the community "the quarters" or "across the tracks." Down South, if you want to find an African-descended community, you can use those navigational terminology.
China was a fun place to grow up as a kid. There was a lot of freedom in this small town, in terms of being able to move around in the community without fear. In my community, everybody knew everyone, and we had a village mentality. The older kids would take care of the younger kids, and parents shared information about their kids, so you couldn't get away with anything. When you got caught doing wrong, you would get punished by whoever caught you and then by your parent — and it could be just for swearing.
We had an area where we played sports. There were a couple of goals and some beat-up swings with broken chains and hanging seats. We called it "up on the mountain." It was the minority community park. There wasn't much to it — no grass or lights. We would go up on the mountain after school and shoot basketball until dark, as there were no lights to continue the game or any other activity.
On the other side of town in the white community, they had a park with lights that included a swimming pool, a tennis court, and a basketball court. I'm not sure if we were banned from going to that park or not, but I think it was understood that it wasn't our park, and we didn't go there.
One day, my friend Tiger and I decided that we were going to that park to swim. I don't know what led us to do it, but we did; we went there, and I think we had to do some explaining. I'm not really sure of the dialogue, but we paid the people at the gate and entered. When we entered the building to shower, as directed by the doorkeeper, the people looked at us a little funny, like what are you doing here. We ignored them and proceeded to the shower, after showering, we entered the pool area and got into the pool. I noticed a few people getting out of the pool, but for the most part, there wasn't much commotion in response to our presence.
That day, Tiger and I were the first minorities to swim in the white community's swimming pool in China. I guess you can say we were trendsetters, or we broke the color barrier.
Today, I must report to you that China has changed in some areas; the tracks are gone, literally and figurative. They are no longer there, and the minorities have now moved to the other side of the tracks and to the other side of one of the main streets, into the white community.
Integration seemed to be catching on — better late than never. I visited China in October 2013 and found it to be evolving. The people seemed to be friendly and cordial toward one another. I even saw whites and blacks living in the same apartment complexes. Yet there were still strong boundaries when it came to race relations.
Neighborhood planning based on this model is the template for America's continued racist divisions, thus creating unequal communities while expecting the pride of all citizens to be the same.
There is a comprehensive plan in place to continue this pattern of racism in America — reverting monies from what would support these inner-city local schools and redirecting it to charter schools built on the ideology of separation, security, and the fear of the influence of African-descended children's "devilish" ways. Boo!
I'm amazed at how the residents of these suburban communities respond to crime in their neighborhood. They will come out and say, "I didn't think this would happen in this community, in such a good neighborhood where everybody gets along." It seems to imply this is a good place because we don't have all the minorities. This isn't just my thought; you can ask any African-descended associate if you know one or work with one or wherever your encounter may be. Just ask them honest and think it will make a difference they may tell you.
Let me remind you, my friend, you are policed differently, and therefore you are not included in the daily statistics or on the evening news with the caption "Crime News." Don't be fooled by the statistics of the law enforcement and the presentation of the media, even though the prisons are full of minorities.
Incarcerated Population
The largest population of inmates in this country is whites. If you are talking population percentages, you will see higher numbers of minorities due to the fewer amount in the population. According to the Federal Bureau of Prisons, as of June 27, 2015, whites accounted for 59 percent of the prison population (122,782 inmates), while African Americans made up 37.5 percent (78,021 inmates). Asians and Native Americans rounded out the incarcerated population at 1.5 percent (3,186 inmates) and 1.9 percent (3,973 inmates), respectively.
White Americans make up a large portion of the population, thus their percentage is lower from their population. So beware of false security; you are also being locked up at an alarming rate. You are more likely to be harmed by someone in your own race or in your own community than by someone of any other race. People usually get killed in their own environment or own neighborhood.
I experienced racism at an early age, growing up in Texas. There were many incidents, but I will talk about the ones that I keep in the back of my mind, the ones that had a strong influence on the way I view race today and how I respond to racism. The incidents that follow also demonstrate Reasons to be involved with your children's activities.
When I was about seven years old, I was playing Little League baseball. My team was getting ready to play the championship game, and I went to the concession stand to get some refreshments. I was stopped by one of the kids from the opposing team that we were supposed to play in the championship game.
This was a white kid, and he was talking trash while sitting on the back of his daddy's flatbed truck. The trash talking got to be a little personal. I could tell he was getting very angry, as his face and ears were getting red, and I was also getting angry. The kid called me a nigger, and I walked over to his dad's truck and pulled him off. He hit the ground. That was a big mistake.
When the kid hit the ground, he started to cry, and that was trouble because the kid's father got extremely angry and started to chase me. I ran. The man's face was very red, and he chewed tobacco and had creases in his face along his jaw. The cress in his jaws were so deep you could see the tobacco spit stain in the groves of his face.
This man chased me around the school with a knife in his hand, saying that he was going to cut my throat. I ran around the baseball field, across the baseball field, and through the parking lot. I was so terrified, and no one was trying to stop this crazy man from hurting me. I ran from him until the game started.
I continued watching him throughout the entire game and was still terrified. Not knowing this crazy man's limit or what he was capable of made it even more frightening.
The most revealing thing was I didn't get any help from anybody at the local high school, which was where we played our games. No help at all — not even from the coaches, fans, or parents, who were all white.
The lack of compassion and refusal to help a young African-descended kid was very telling. These thing have happened and will continue to happen with the same silence. A kid should be enough reason for someone to help. I had to make my way home after the game alone, still very afraid of this man. I ran all the way home, about a mile away.
I often think he could've done anything to me and would have gotten away with it. This book is being written after the Trayvon Martin vs. George Zimmerman case. A white adult male shot and murdered an unarmed sixteen-year-old black child and got away with it. Like President Obama said, "I could have been Trayvon Martin forty-one years ago." I have seen the man that chased me that day many times since that incident. I must say I don't have any hate in my heart toward him. I will leave it to God.
Romans 12:19 says, "Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, 'Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.'"
Thanks to that incident, I can count on one hand the number of events I missed while raising my kids as they participated in youth sports. Hopefully that will inspire you to do the same. Kids are resilient in the way that they experience life. When they go through something, they may or may not speak of it, so for parents, it's very important that you go where your kids go. I did not tell my mom about this incident because I feared for her, and if you knew my mom, you would know she would have given that man the what for. Parents, be there to protect your kids. Black kids alone in today's America have about as much chance as a lamb in the South Africa jungle.
My truth, my proof — too blessed to be stressed.
Wrong neighborhood? Or as law enforcement characterizes it in their terminology and training, belonging.
This childhood experience came when I was in the fifth grade while living in Joe, Florida. It was during football season. I remember that because the incident happened when my brother Jim and I were walking home from a football game. Jim was in eighth grade at the time. We were walking home and were approached by two white males driving a large truck with large wheels. The men in the truck drove up near us, slamming their brakes, and the wheels on the truck made a high-pitched squeaking sound. They said, "Come here, niggers." They yelled racial comments at us, and my brother and I ran across the street into some woods. We were terrified.
I found a bottle in the woods, and I broke it to protect myself. When I broke the bottle, I cut my left hand. It started to bleed, which terrified my brother and me (I still have the scar on my left hand as a reminder of that terrifying night).
We stayed in the woods as these men drove up and down the street, yelling, "Come here, niggers!" It seemed like an eternity. Eventually they decided to leave, and we came out of the woods and ran for about two miles to a theater where one of my dad's friends work, a gentleman named Carl. We stayed with him until he finished working at the theater, and then he took us home.
I was still terrified by the incident when I got into bed that night. Once in bed, I heard the traffic of the neighborhood and some wheels making that high-pitched squeaky sound. I started sweating and returned to the fear of the earlier incident.
Think about it; it only happened because they saw two helpless black kids walking alone in the wrong neighborhood or out of bounds. They wanted to do what every racist dreams of, which is to harm a black person — preferably one who is helpless. That's what they look for; that's what cowards do.
Quick Story
I saw a picture of a Ku Klux Klan member covered in a white sheet. I thought it looked like a ghost. I thought, Man, this is scary. Then an old African-descended man told me that it was a man. I asked, "Why is he covered in a sheet?" The man said, "Because cowards like to hide behind their sheets and do bad things, and with the sheet, they hide who they really are."
Belonging
I hear people say how afraid they are to walk the streets in some communities. Specifically, I hear some white people say they are afraid to walk in African American communities. I will say to you that I will walk up and down any African American community and fear nothing, except the police possibly stopping me. Now I will not walk in a white community alone at night. It's just dangerous, and to be honest, it's suicide.
I am cautious about walking in white communities because the threat of something happening to me goes up 100 percent. I could be harassed like in the previous story. That evening, I was walking in a white community. The fact that I'm in a white community creates suspicion among the residents. My fear someone will call the police and report a suspicious person. "A black man is walking down the street and acting strange." That's all it would take. So basically I'm saying I can walk in African American communities with no fear, but when I'm in white communities, I walk with caution and fear.
How do you navigate this path in your life? Do you share the same experience in your journey of life? If you are human, I'm sure you have had similar experiences. Whether or not other people believe you, I do, and I hear you. Evil has no color barriers!
My truth, my proof — too blessed to be stressed.
The Noose and the Knife
I start this childhood incident with chills not because the forthcoming incident was so terrifying — they all were — but because I have an inventory of these racist incidents to choose from. Wow.
This childhood incident involved two of my childhood friends, whom I'll call Dan and Slow to protect their privacy.
It was a late Saturday night in China, and the three of us were returning from some youthful fun out of town. I guess we were about sixteen years old, and Slow had a nice car. It was a 1974 Pontiac Grand Am, white with maroon leather interior.
We were returning from New Orleans, where we had just finished watching a softball game in which our community team was playing.
We always went and participated in the Community Athletics League, specifically softball. The league was all black teams. We didn't have any white members on our community team, and we usually didn't compete against them. I'm not sure why. I could take a guess, but I will let your imagination fill in the blank. However, on one occasion we did play a predominant white team, and they were good. They beat us, and that was impressive, as we didn't lose many games.
On the Saturday night I began telling you about, we stopped at the local market. I think it was called Senior Food Store or something like that. We went in and made our purchases. A white guy we knew from school was in the store. I'll call him Mike, we played football with him.
Change is a continuous process. Mike departed the store before we departed and had driven off before we exited the store. We departed the store, and when we got outside, two white men greeted us. We knew both of them; they went to school with our older brothers. One of the men stood about six foot five with long hair and a beard, and the other stood about five feet — if that. He was very small. They claimed that one of us had said something rude to the white girl who was working at the store.
This is where it gets tough. I knew the short guy's brother, and I considered his brother a friend. We played football together as kids, and he was a tough kid. I depended on him, and he depended on me on the football field. I thought it would have put a strain on our relationship if I told him what happened. Plus, it wasn't him; it was his brother, and I didn't get the feeling that he was that type of person.
So why would I place that racist incident on him? I wouldn't do that. It's not who I am or what I am about. You are not your brother, and he is not you. So you deserve your own evaluation based on your actions, not someone else's. Unfortunately, for African-descended people, there is a concept that if one is bad, they're all bad.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Trained to Hate But Designed to Love by Accuracy. Copyright © 2015 Accuracy. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Table of Contents
Contents
The Purpose of the Book, xi,God Is the Ultimate Authority, xiii,
God Is Sovereign, xiii,
God Instituted Human Government, xv,
Immigration, xvii,
Function of Government, xxv,
Are Your Politics Causing People to Be Poor?, xxvii,
A Quiet Life with Tranquility, xxvii,
Reaffirming the Purpose of the Book, xxxiii,
Chapter 1 Childhood, 1,
Chapter 2 Adulthood, 21,
Chapter 3 Career, 27,
Chapter 4 Parenting, 57,
Conclusion, 73,