Your Stories: Racism Is A Weapon
These are the first hand accounts of the human cost of greed, corruption or bigotry in our country. We are not post-racial, women are not equals, homosexuals are still reviled, corporations ruin lives and justice is sometimes not only blind, but deaf and mute as well. We have a lot of work to do and it’s important that you know you are not working alone. Others share your pain and now they are willing to share it with the world.
Not all racism has to be directed at you personally in order to hurt you. – FLS
I’ll tell you how racism affected me. I had a huge falling out with my racist stepfather when I went back to N.Y. to see my mom who was dying of lung cancer. My mom had asked my stepfather to promise her that when it came time for me to leave and go back to SC, that he would let me leave happy.
Well, long story short, he could not do that. That last two days I was there, he spent using words like Nigger, Spic, commie Jew, to name a few. He kept trying to push my buttons. Finally he pushed the last one. Needless to say, my children and I left under much tension and it was the last time I saw my mother alive. Two months later I got a call to get back to N.Y. My mom had had a massive heart attack and was on life support, they were getting ready to take her off. I had heard my stepfather wasn’t even going to wait for me. Well, I’m sitting in the hospital (there is lot’s of painful things that happened in between, but I’m giving you the jist of it) I’m sitting in the room with my mom and next to my mothers sister, another Aunt whom I never really knew well, came in and out of the blue she says “everything wrong in this country is the fault of the illegals” and her daughter is a NY state trooper and deals with it all the time, yadda, yadda. At this point I get very angry. First of all, who the hell brings up one of the most heated debates in the country at my mom’s death bed? Secondly, I looked at her and said, “Well unless you’re a native American Indian, you’re an illegal too.” With this, my other Aunt jumps up and yells at me and the two go running out and down the hall whispering and running to their husbands, crying.
Long story short, I was treated like a leper. I never went to my own mom’s funeral and I flew home the next day. I wanted to be home with my children grieving around love, not hate, but I will never, ever, forgive a single one of those haters and I will never jump on their bus and I can never go back and go to my moms funeral. That’s how racism has affected me, I cry day and night, not one member of my family speaks to me or my children. My mom passed Feb 5, 2011, it’s been over a year and because of what they did to me, I am a tormented soul, but I will never, ever becomes the disgusting racists that they all are.
This reader is far kinder than I am. Heaven help the family member that spews this garbage in front of me or my children. Especially my children. But this is the mind of a racist. They hate, but you’re the terrible person for being disgusted by it. – FLS
If you want to share your story, contact me here. Your privacy is guaranteed if you choose to remain anonymous or you can shout it out to the world. The choice is yours. Don’t worry about being the greatest writer ever. Not everyone can be Shakespeare. Just tell your story and let the literary critics worry about themselves.