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Have you ever been called a racial slur in your lifetime?
Unfortunately, there is quite no feeling like it.
Having the color of your skin thrown in your face backhandedly for no other reason than pure hatred. It is an unfathomable feeling; one that sparks rage, disappointment, shock, angst and sadness all within one sitting.
Last week as I was reporting live on Facebook about a traffic back-up on Highway 71 in Columbus, a white ram Dodge truck with two white individuals, both presumably teenagers, honked their horns at me whilst driving by and screaming to me to “get the f*** out of here n*****.”
Little did they know just who I was or the position of “power” that I held in this county. Strangely I questioned their intelligence to yell that driving by while seeing I was obviously recording. In my head I figured if they were smarter, they would have at least made sure they were not being filmed.
I was completely shocked at first, wondering if I heard what I actually heard. I paced around a bit with no thoughts in mind, just confusion, as the reality of what happened started to settle in. I was furious; why would they say that to me for absolutely no reason? (I knew the answer already it was more so of a “did that really happen?” question when you know it happened.)
Why was there so much hate in their hearts that they felt the need to throw my skin color in my face as if it was an insult? I am proud to be black, proud to wear my skin color and proud to check off that box listing myself as “African-American” every time I vote.
So why did their comment upset me so much?
As a 24-year-old Ethiopian American who was born and raised in Houston, my upbringing admittedly is quite different from where I work. I grew up around all walks of life, from Asians, to Europeans, South Americans, Africans; people from all over the world. In fact, the minority where I grew up was White.
Being raised in such a diverse environment, I was expecting it to be a bit of a culture shock seeing the predominant race throughout this county, but I was not surprised, and it rarely crossed, and crosses, my mind.
The only time I will admit it does run through my head is when I realize I am the only black person in a setting full of dozens, hundreds and dare I say even thousands. I always reassure myself by saying, if I went to a random city or town in China right now, I would probably be the only black person in 50-mile vicinity. Location and geography are not controlled by people, but how you treat someone who is foreign to your area speaks VOLUME.
I have always been a strong believer in ignoring stereotypes and seeing people for WHO they are and not WHAT they are.
I have loved my time working in Columbus and Colorado County thus far, but I will admit I was skeptical to be in this part of Texas solely due to the stereotype of small-town racism. But one person does not, and should not, be a representation of everyone else, and that goes both ways if you catch my drift.
The response I have received from people all over the county tells me exactly that. So much love and support has been sent my way because of that incident, with people fighting tooth and nail to defend me and some even trying to go further and figure out who the culprits are. (Although some commentors seemed to rub salt in my wound and lay focus on an insignificant matter when faced with something as heavy as racism.)
I was reassured that those two teenagers were just a group of bad apples by the warmth and love shown by this community. I pray that they find healing in their heart and curb that hatred down the long run. I hope this is a lesson to all who may still have hate in their heart reading this. If you claim to be Christain, you cannot be racist. It is quite hypocritical to say the least considering how Jesus was accepting and equally loving towards all walks of life. Before you consider throwing a slur or even thinking about one ask yourself, “what would Jesus do?”
