I think every person born after 1945 in America should have to watch this film to truly understand what our history was like not so long ago.
I think those who were born in the 50's thru the early 60's, should also understand, especially if they live in the south. I was born in the late 70's and have lived in the south, specifically Memphis, TN all of my life and although I'm sure that it was nothing like pre-civil war era, I have still experienced some racism myself, although most were a bit subtle but growing up, there were some places in Memphis that blacks were not welcomed. It wasn't illegal but the white patrons made it very clear that you didn't belong.
I'm not even about to pretend that I grew up in a non racist home, myself. My mom taught us to judge people individually and not according to whatever race they are but my dad was a different story. He would make it very clear that he didn't trust whites and warned us not to either. He would always say "watch um and whatever you do, DO NOT trust them". According to him, they are some very sneaky, conning and manipulative liars that will smile in your face, while stabbing you in the back. They will switch and throw you under the bus in a heartbeat to save their own ass or one of "their own kind", no matter how good you think they are but then, he was born in 1949 so he grew up in the Civil Rights era. He was also in Memphis during the riots and when Martin Luther King was murdered so I totally understand where he's coming from because when he was growing up, that was the way it was between blacks and whites. Besides, even growing up in the 80's, I've had my own racist experiences myself. When I was younger, we joined a predominately white Baptist church because my mom really liked the pastor and the way he preached so she enrolled us kids in Sunday school. I can remember being the only black kid in the class and all of the other kids would make ugly faces at me (e.g., rolling their eyes, licking out their tongues, hunking up their noses) some even went so far as to pull their pants down or raise their skirts up and pat their butts at me, as to say "kiss my ass" right there in the Sunday school class and I'm talking no older than 8 and 9 year olds so you already know where they got that from...their parents, who were probably the ones singing in the church choir the loudest. The teachers tried to be welcoming but they tried too hard and it was obvious that they were giving me extra attention because I was black, which made me a novelty to them. If they asked a question, I was usually the one who was singled out to answer. If they called on another child and that child didn't have the answer, the teacher would scold them but if I didn't have the answer, the teacher would make excuses for me. They acted as if they really thought that since I was black I was automatically stupid, poor, underprivileged and homeless. It was like they believed every stereotype they had ever heard about blacks so they pitied me and treated me like I was just another victim of the ghetto or some savaged heathen that had no prior knowledge of The Bible, at all so every little bit was an improvement. It was seriously like they really thought that I had enough on my plate, living in the drug infested projects, dodging bullets every day, while I skipped school so I could collect cans to help support my 10 brothers and sisters, who all had different fathers, while my mama sat on her butt all day, smoking crack and collecting welfare checks. I guess my dad was either somewhere getting drunk and high, in jail or just MIA and making babies all over town. That is, if I even knew who my father was so with all of that going on, it was no wonder why I didn't know the answer. I obviously had more urgent things to worry about than learning a new Bible story. They were seriously on some Ms Marello from Everybody Hates Chris type of stuff, forreal. That character had me in stitches just because I know there are actually people out there that are just as ignorant, when it comes to our differences and I know exactly what it's like to constantly be stereotyped at such a young age. If I answered the question right, they would go overboard with their praise and even stop to give me a hug. If they brought any snacks in, they always made sure I got one first and after class, as I waited for my sister, they would give me some encouraging words about how life would get better if I just had faith and believed it would. I would be standing there like These people are nuts, forreal. Then they would tell my sister how proud they were of me and how my whole family should be proud, too. My sister would be like......"What are you doing in there or what are you telling those people?". They obviously didn't mean any harm, they were just ignorant but it made me very uncomfortable and I never wanted to go. That class made me hate Sundays.
However, I have also experienced a more hateful form of racism around that same age and it didn't really take place in the south. I was taking a busride to California, along with my grandmother, her father, a cousin, my older sister and brother, which is a 2 1/2 to 3 day trip. Well, on the very first day, we met this white girl who was a runaway. She told us her sob story about how her parents hated her and didn't treat her very well. She was the same age as my sister, which was about 16. We all, except for my sister, immediately took a liking to her. I actually felt sorry for her because she didn't have anything...no family, no home, no food, no clothes, no money, no nothing. For two days, everywhere we went, she followed. When we ate, she ate with us. If we left the bus to sightsee, so did she. The only thing that we did and she didn't do was wash up and change clothes so she did start to have a slight odor but it wasn't a really strong odor. However, I will say that my sister started giving her the side eye early on. Plus, she didn't really want to be bothered by her and suspected that she was just a big liar. Even though she started to smell kind of bad and she was likely lying, as a kid, her company was really welcomed because she did make the busride seem a lot shorter. She told us stories about her life, her horrible relationship with her parents and her experiences on the streets as a runaway and taught us how to play card games, etc. even though my older cousin and my sister weren't feeling her. They weren't mean to her, they were just getting tired of her and not as welcoming as my brother and myself but I guess they weren't as innocent and gullible as we were. After the 2nd day of this, we got off the bus to eat but she didn't join us and we didn't see where she went. When we all got on the bus and was about to leave, she showed up with about 3 more white people, who weren't on the bus before. They looked to be either in their late teens or early twenties. Anyway, she walked right past our section on the bus and went all the way to the back without even looking at us, which threw me off. As a child, I still didn't understand what was going on. It was quiet for a minute and then I started smelling this strange odor of wet dog funk and something else that I had never smelled before, which now I know were drugs. After about 20 minutes into the ride, I heard one of them say something about some "ni66ers". When I looked around, I saw her cracking up, uncontrollably. Then I heard another voice saying "black monkeys" or "porch monkeys" something like that. After a while, it got louder and more clear and by now, her voice had joined them. For hours, we had to listen to them calling us all sorts of "black, ni66er, monkey, coons" that they could think of as they continued to smoke and get high. I mean, it was loud and constant and we had to endure this harassment for hours. They even started chanting some insults. I was shocked and just out done. I couldn't believe this sh!t That was when it became apparent that we were the only blacks on the bus and nobody else said anything. Back then, I was a bit of a hot headed little tomboy and I was mad as hell, mainly because I had given that funky skank some of my snacks...LOL and all I could think of was "the nerve of this funky dog smelling, ungrateful ass cow. How she gone dog us like this right after we fed her dirty ass and let her have our snacks" LOL (I was mad about those snacks). Needless to say, my dad's words came to mind, when he said "watch um. They'll turn on you in a second and stick with their own" but all I wanted to do was slap that bitch until my snacks popped out and I would have been good. My grandmother was at the front of the bus, taking care of her sick father. She told us later, that she didn't hear anything, which I believe because if she had heard them, it wouldn't have gone down so smoothly. She would have certainly said or done something, like demanded the bus driver kick them off or give us our money back. And if she didn't hear them, I have to believe that the bus driver didn't hear them either but the other whites, who were mostly adults, certainly heard them as well as we did and no one said anything. In fact, some were even laughing. Needless to say, after that, my parents would not let us take anymore trips via Greyhound. I can laugh about it now and it's actually funny when I think about but I was mad as hell that day.
I've had other racist experiences and I can go on and on but those were just two that were actually kind of funny.
I woke up this way...
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