PERRY: A racist by any other name is a racist

In the end, it all comes down to defining what a racist really is.

Southern TV cooking personality Paula Deen brought that issue into the minds of millions last week when her racism caught up with her. For the past week or so, just about every alliance she’s ever had has jumped ship.

Small wonder. Racism has finally moved beyond passe and into the realm of repugnant. I’d like to think that’s because as a nation, the vast majority of Americans no longer see ethnic people as “them.” But in reality, the economics of a country where whites are now becoming the minority means that big companies won’t allow personality problems to hamper profits. Deen had become a liability, and therefore she had to go.

Closer to home, the incident prompted endless conversations about what Deen did and whether it was bad, how bad, or unforgiveable.

When I was a growing up here in Colorado, a racist was someone who unabashedly shunned blacks or Mexicans. It was something that was frowned upon but often overlooked. In my experience, these creatures were rare. More common were the whisperers. They were the ones who used breathy, hushed voices to point out that the folks who got promoted last week or who delivered the milk to the wrong house or brought yellow cupcakes to the second-grade holiday party was “colored” or “Mexican” or “oriental.” “That nice colored woman brought those. Are they any good?”

No one used the word “racist” back then. If you asked a whisperer why they were “prejudiced,” they would strongly deny such a thing and explain how color didn’t make any difference to them. It always struck me as odd because they always seemed to focus on just that when describing almost any encounter they had with a minority.

I had more real-deal encounters than I wanted. The father of a kid I sometimes played with asked me once why I spent so much time hanging around the Mexican kids down the street. He meant the Gonzales family. It was my second home. During the summer, I spent more time there than at my own house. Mr. and Mrs. “G” as we called them, raised me as much as my own parents did. We didn’t know racism simply because we just didn’t know. When I did learn about it, I understood how mean and dangerous it was, and I pushed back. Star Trek set us straight. Anyone talking crap about Mrs. G drew a loyal rebuke from me, no matter who they were or how old. My friend’s dad made me leave, and I was hugely embarrassed, but I never regretted having the back of my second mom.

A couple of years later I was walking home from school and about to be thoroughly pummelled by a pack of notorious bullies. Just as I braced for the first punch, Mrs. G appeared seemingly out of nowhere to save me from what was sure to be a traumatic memory. One of the bullies brazenly told her that my treatment was none of her business and called her a “beaner” under his breath. She left her car door open and marched his butt to his house, where she ratted him out to his mom. She drove me home and told me that what the boys were doing was all about them, and not about me. She told me to never look away from something wrong. I got it.

When I became an adult, I saw lots of wrong. Here, even after All in the Family, racism had evolved into tolerating minorities. The supposed end of racism has left herds of people who are always fast with a quiet joke about blacks, Mexicans or Asians. Without exception, people are often surprised when I ask to stop, or if they don’t like minorities. It makes for pretty uncomfortable and comical tension. They just don’t understand that this low-level racism is all about them, not the black, the Jewish or the gay butt of their jokes. Modern day racism outside of the South isn’t about using the N-word. It’s about seeing a group of people, any group of people as slightly unequal, slightly untrustworthy, slightly inferior because of their race or sexual preference. It doesn’t matter if you couch that inequality in a nudge, a joke or a tirade, it means that you have a problem. It’s all about you. And if you let others around you handle this comfy, nudge, nudge, wink, wink, brand of racism, you partake. You, like Paula Deen, one way or another inflict and suffer the consequences of problem that comes from you.

Reach editor Dave Perry at 303-750-7555 or dperry@aurorasentinel.com