For Booh.

There is an Avenue Q song about how everyone is a little racist no matter what we try to tell ourselves, and this week I have come to learn that this is true. This saddens me greatly.

I had come to suspect this was true when I finally admitted to myself that clothes matter. This was the first step in overcoming my denial. I saw some kid dressed like a thug and immediately categorized him as such. The rest of his demeanor wasn't thuggish but it was too late, I had made my judgement and had decided to teach Ellie to avoid thugs. Much to my chagrin this made me realize how the way we dress matters. I've always been an advocate for wearing the kitchen sink if you so please, but I'm starting to realize that if you're going to wear the kitchen sink you should be prepared for some plumbing jokes. I only realized this after I myself had judged that unsuspecting wannabe thug. And sadly this was my first clue that maybe I wasn't as open-minded as I had thought myself to be.

I go through life making a concious effort to not offend people because I geniunely don't want to hurt anyones feelings. I say "disabled" instead of "handicapped", I say Appalachian the correct way, and yet it turns out I'm not as charitable in my thoughts as I had expected.

A black family moved into our apartment complex this week. From what I learned as I was spying from our window, they have a few little kids and one of their TV's is broken since I saw it fall out of their van when they opened the rear door. I didn't really think anything of this family until I recently heard some really loud Outkast playing from somewhere within our complex. I don't really have anything against Outkast but my first thought was, "Oh no, they're going to be those type of neighbors." A sudden uneasiness creeped in my head. If they were going to be the kind of people to play loud music, then what's next? A cookout? The show "Cops"? Heaven forbid! Turns out it wasn't even them.

Needless to say these feelings surprised and bothered me to my very core. Where did my geniune desire to not offend go? I felt like Liz Lemon when she says, "You know I'm not racist, but I think that pita-pocket might be a terrorist!"

I assumed that because they're black they were going to be disruptive neighbors and surely this apartment complex was going to hell. I didn't even think about the fact that they have little kids and probably don't want Outkast playing during naptime either. I've had very few black neighbors throughout my life and because I don't have a frame of reference for that circumstance I let ignorance and stereotypes inform my judgement.

Thankfully I had the wherewithal to realize this and now I'm nipping it in the bud. But this made me think truly about the way we percieve others. Really percieve others. Not how we want to percieve with our own PC filters but how really see others in the wee hours of the morning when we are most honest with ourselves. Race is not a choice. Race doesn't dictate how loud your music should be. It's not a type of clothing you decided you wanted to wear that day. It's not something I can tell Ellie to think twice about before she leaves the door. Nor would I want to. So, I, who have heard negative Mexican stereotypes from people I thought knew better, should know to always see people as they are, not as they look.

So. New plan. I will erase all preconceived notions about the new family in 3A and I will take them as they are. And right now they are a family with a few little kids and a broken TV.