Thursday, March 22, 2012

Quandary

Tonight I met a fellow MS'er who lives in Las Vegas too. I had lots of questions about neurologists and medications etc. and everything was going very well. We talked for about an hour and a half and we were totally off topic and making fun of Portland when she said this:

MS'er: Oh by the way I'm a racist. Not just a little. I'm a racist. Your husband isn't Asian is he?
Me: Uhhh.. no
MS'er: Is he black?
Me: Uhh.. no. He's a big white guy.
MS'er: Oh okay good.

...and continues on with her story. Which I totally don't remember because I was stunned. Who says that so casually? Racists, I guess. I'm not sure how if I'm more shocked that this happened or that I didn't respond. I was so stunned. I know that her opinion is her opinion, and she is entitled to it even if she is wrong. But I was so worried about offending her if I said " You know this isn't going to work out. We cannot be friends. I don't support your opinions." That I held my tongue and stuck around.

Clearly I will not be calling her again. And if she calls me, I'm going tell her we can't be friends. But why am I so worried about offending her. Because I still am. Ugh.

I've never been in this situation before and it is so weird. I'm friends with people who have very different political views than I do and the difference has never been a friendship barrier. But racism? That's a dealbreaker.

6 comments:

  1. She is obviously a sociopath and you were right to not want to offend her since she probably would have killed you and cut you into tiny pieces. That was your survival instinct kicking in!

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  2. Honestly I'm still a little stunned. I've never had that happen before. That's a personal difference that I cant get across. Part of me wonders if she was joking. I made a quip earlier about maybe I'm a little racist because my Neurologist is Russian and I can't understand his accent and it is really frustrating, but this is different entirely.

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  3. If you don't feel comfortable with her, that's perfectly fine. I'm impressed that she was straightforward with you about it. A lot of people with deeply rooted racism can be in denial about it and it's not until they say something that is totally okay in their books that the red flag will go up and catch someone else off their guard.

    Clearly, by telling you from the get-go, she wanted you to know exactly who she was and give you the opportunity to decide how comfortable you'd feel with being around her. She put herself out there and it took guts.

    Maybe tell her you don't feel comfortable, but that you appreciate her honesty?

    That's just Shauna's opinion :]

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  4. Angelina, I had an interesting experience with someone I know being a racist when I was just 11--he was my dad.

    I met him for the first time when I was seven, and I had no idea we had such fundamental difference in our views on the world until I went to Texas to visit him and meet my paternal grandparents, aunts, and cousins. It didn't take long for me to figure it out, and when I did, I was horrified. We'd be driving down the street and he'd make rude comments about folks walking by, or in the car next to us. He used the "n" word, and I was appalled--it floored me.

    Here I was, having traveled for the first time alone on an airplane, surrounded by people I didn't know, and in the care of my father, who I had only met once, years prior, and had only had minimal contact with since (phone calls, birthday/Christmas cards and the like), and I was completely at a loss.

    I was supposed to like this guy. I DID like this guy. I was even (maybe) supposed to love him. I thought I did. As much as you can love someone you don't know very well. He loved ME. He adored me. He wanted nothing but to spoil me, make me laugh--he wanted me to like him, to love him. And now this. I felt at once flustered, angry, confused, and worst of all: disgusted. I was horrified by all of this. In reality, the lump sum of emotions was epitomized by sadness.

    I knew there was nothing I could do to change it. After the second, third, or perhaps fourth racist remark, I had to speak up. I don't remember what I said, but I made it clear that I didn't like it. It's all kind of fuzzy, this was a LONG time ago, but I think that didn't stop him. He didn't get it. He thought he was being funny, and he hadn't a clue as to how serious this was to me.

    My dad was kind of a big kid. And in many ways, that made him sweet, and fun. But that whole trip for me was trying to parse out how I could feel about a guy who had so little respect for his fellow humans.

    We didn't talk very much after that. I left not sure how to feel, and he was left pretty sure I didn't like him. I thought I did a pretty good job sucking it up and putting on a good face. But I would find out years later, after his death that he was deeply saddened that our trip had not gone as he'd planned, and that after all was said and done, I didn't like him. That wasn't true, exactly. But by the time I really understood why he stopped calling, it was too late.

    In short: racism sucks.

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  5. oh good lord!! what the hell?! i am a bit speachless. it reminds me of when my aunt was looking at homes years ago and was working with a new real estate agent. they had gotten along great so far and then she had to fill out some forms. turned out my white/blond aunt had the last name Gonzales & the agent told her to get out. leterally slammed the door in her face. my poor aunt was so stunned and this lady was really angry and offended. people are crazy!

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  6. Hey Angelina,
    I am very sorry for your diagnosis. My prayers will be with you and your husband. I was wondering if you could email me?
    danamarie51@hotmail.com
    Dana Avery (Christiansen)

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