Reflections of a Honky

One Man's Perspective

Whenever an old, white male expresses his opinions about anything having to do with race, I imagine that many heads begin to shake, many eyes begin to roll, and many ears begin to close. That seems fair, I suppose, when viewed through the lens of history. However, I’m going to put my two cents out there anyway.

I was born and raised in a very rural, very white part of Pennsylvania. James Carville has said of Pennsylvania that it has Pittsburgh on one side, Philadelphia on the other side, and Alabama everywhere else, and it is so true. I don’t know if there is another state outside the Confederacy that has more Confederate flags than Pennsylvania. When I was growing up, racism was common in our area. If your ancestors were not white, and English, German, or Eastern European, you were subject to suspicion, at the very least. I remember it as being a very insulated community. As a young man, I relocated to a more diverse part of the world, and I had to unlearn behaviors that were normal in my childhood. Maybe the Pennsylvania I grew up in is not that way now. Possibly it has become a more tolerant place. I left long ago, and visit infrequently, so what do I know?

I believe racism exists everywhere. Some folks think that people of color cannot be racist because racism comes from a position of power, and only white people have ever had the power in this country. Therefore, only whites can be racist. I think that’s . . . searching for the best word . . . wrong. Given my whiter than white complexion, it would be ridiculous for me to lecture any person of color on the corrosive insidiousness and pervasiveness of racism. But, I say it can infect people of any race. Denying that a certain kind of racism exists, is not proof of its nonexistence, just as proof of something’s existence is not achieved by saying it is so. There are certain things we all have to decide for ourselves, and it is my belief that race-based haters are racists, no matter who is doing the hating.

I actually have had the experience of being called names because of my race. Have you ever been called “Honky”? I have. “Whitey”? Yep. “White Boy”? Uh-huh. In the present, those all sound rather tame. However, my take at the time was that these were not terms of endearment. I was told once “sometimes we call you guys ‘devils’.” Which, okay, I get it, I guess. Years ago, after John Hinckley tried to assassinate Ronald Reagan, someone called me “Hinckley”. And I thought, “What?” Then he did it again, so I asked him why he was calling me “Hinckley” and he said, “Man, it’s always you white dudes doing that shit.” Given the preponderance of evidence, I really could not argue the point, but I asked him to stop and he did. Was I scarred for life because somebody called me names? Nah. I’m not a victim. To claim victimhood for myself would devalue those who truly have been victimized by hateful racial epithets. And I’m not claiming a license to call other people names because someone did it to me. I am only sharing these experiences to provide context. Each person’s journey is unique.

I did not like being called names, but I cannot say I was hurt by it. Perhaps subconsciously I realized that no matter what racial term someone called me, I was still going to be a white man in a white man’s world. There is so much that I do not have to give a second thought to, not because of the content of my character, but because of the ivory image I see in a mirror. I can walk around in most neighborhoods without wondering if someone will call 911. I can shop in a store without the feeling that someone is watching my every move. I can be pulled over by the police and not worry about surviving the encounter. Aren’t these instances the very definition of white privilege?

And, guess what? Privilege makes my life easier. It would be disingenuous to say otherwise. However, I’ve never asked for privilege or demanded it, and would not fight to keep it. I certainly do not think I deserve privileged status. I never even consider being privileged. That’s the point, though, right? I do not consider it because, wherever I go, it’s already there. That does not mean I can’t be empathetic and supportive of those who are not as privileged in this race-centric society.

But, are empathy and support enough? Apparently not. Just read or listen to the news on some random day. Chances are there will be stories about humans mistreating humans because of race. Why does it have to be this way? Scientists have said that the concept of race is biologically meaningless. It was invented by the ruling classes (whites) centuries ago, in order to justify the enslavement of Africans. Scientifically, though, there are no separate races of humans. There are only humans.

One of America’s most important documents, the Declaration of Independence, says, “All men are created equal”. For everyone other than white men, those have been just words on a piece of paper. Equality only exists when it is lived, and available to all. Simply to speak or write about it means nothing. We Americans have had hundreds of years to figure out our racial problems, and, while some progress has been made, we have quite a ways to go before we all see ourselves as equal members of the same team.