Netflix- seriously, is the coolest thing ever. For some reason, this town cannot support a video store. In the 11 years I have lived here, there have been at least 3 different video stores that have come and gone. Blockbuster is too far to be convenient, and too expensive. We recently discovered Netflix. Unlimited movies! They send it to you, you watch it, send it back, and then... another one right away. It's seriously awesome.
Anyway, my mother and I watched the best movie last night- "The Secret Life of Bees". I read the book years ago and loved it.
It's set in South Carolina in 1964. It's so hard to wrap my mind around racism. I realize it's still an issue- but when I watch movies like this one, where there was a separate door for "colored" people... it just breaks my heart that people are so cruel. I don't understand where that mentality comes from- how you can assume an entire race of people is of a lesser worth than you because they are different. I had the same struggle as I walked through the Auschwitz concentration camp last year. I just don't understand. And I don't just mean the color of someone's skin- we do it for all kinds of things- race, nationality, gender, sexual orientation, religion, handicaps....
Moving here was a huge adjustment after 10 years in Alabama. And two years in Turkey before that. As much as I hated moving as a child, one thing I am deeply thankful for is that I think being exposed to people who were "different" gave me a deeper sense of valuing a person underneath their skin.
I have a picture that was taken at my Great Grandmother's 80th birthday party. They had hired a photographer for the day, and he brought his daughter who was about my age. I've long forgotten her name, but we really hit it off and had a blast. I was looking through our mess of old photos trying to find the pictures from that party. I found a picture that was taken of the two of us, mugging for the camera and holding balloons. I had to look twice at the photo. I didn't remember that she was black. All I had remembered was that she was so much fun to play with. I never even noticed the color of her skin.
One of my best friends when we were in Alabama always had the coolest hair. Her mom braided it into all these intricate braids and then fastened the ends with those little plastic animal barrettes. (Anyone remember those?!) Her head was a sea of braids and bright colors. I wanted my hair done like hers, and I had a fit when my mother tried to explain that my hair was different, and that it just wouldn't work. Telling me that something can't be done is just about as effective as waving a red flag in front of a bull. So I sequestered myself in the bathroom with my armory of plastic animal barrettes and proceeded to put them all over my head.
I looked absolutely ridiculous. But I refused to see the differences, that "black" hair is different from "white" hair. I looked ridiculous, yes. But maybe what we need is to be a little more ridiculous.
What happens to us as we grow up? I don't believe that we are born prejudiced.... I don't believe that it's an inborn trait to look down on someone because their skin is a different color. Or because of a certain country they came from. Or because they can't help who they fall in love with. Or because of a religion that they follow. It has to come from somewhere.... but where?
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