Julie Boler
(originally posted 8/28/2016)
(originally posted 8/28/2016)
Last week, on the one-year anniversary of Donald Trump's escalator-enhanced announcement of his candidacy, he was interviewed by Bill O'Reilly. During their chat, Trump asserting that babies who are born to illegal immigrants (also known, in the bigotry community, as "anchor babies") are not US citizens, 14th-Amendment dictates on birthright citizenship be damned. Trump promised to deport all illegal immigrants, but conceded that he’d work to expedite the re-entry to the US of certain deportees. Which deportees? "... the good ones. And there are plenty of good ones."
Growing up in Evansville, Indiana, in the 1970's, my grade-school-rebel self objected whenever my white classmates used the n-word. They appeared to have a tacit agreement that while one shouldn't call anyone that, or say it around strangers, when talking about black people among young white peers, its use was unremarkable. I begged to differ. Whenever I heard it, I would moan that it was a mean, bad word, and proclaim that it was wrong to utter it anywhere. (Well, and I also ordered them to "Stop saying that!" - evidence of why I've heard "Julie, you're so bossy!" since 3rd grade.)
Countless times, one of my little friends would adopt a patronizing tone and explain that, according to a father or an aunt, or older sibling, the word didn't apply to all black people. "It just means the bad ones." They explained, "There are good ones, you see, and bad ones." Hoping to reassure their troubled playmate, they'd say, "So don't get so upset, Julie, (n-word) is only for the bad ones."
I may not have had the words for it at the time, but I knew that even beyond using slurs, talking about the "good ones and bad ones" was dehumanizing.
Growing up in Evansville, Indiana, in the 1970's, my grade-school-rebel self objected whenever my white classmates used the n-word. They appeared to have a tacit agreement that while one shouldn't call anyone that, or say it around strangers, when talking about black people among young white peers, its use was unremarkable. I begged to differ. Whenever I heard it, I would moan that it was a mean, bad word, and proclaim that it was wrong to utter it anywhere. (Well, and I also ordered them to "Stop saying that!" - evidence of why I've heard "Julie, you're so bossy!" since 3rd grade.)
Countless times, one of my little friends would adopt a patronizing tone and explain that, according to a father or an aunt, or older sibling, the word didn't apply to all black people. "It just means the bad ones." They explained, "There are good ones, you see, and bad ones." Hoping to reassure their troubled playmate, they'd say, "So don't get so upset, Julie, (n-word) is only for the bad ones."
I may not have had the words for it at the time, but I knew that even beyond using slurs, talking about the "good ones and bad ones" was dehumanizing.
My siblings will recognize the title of this post as a quote we have repeated for comedic value for decades. It was the earnest declaration of a preteen neighbor who lived in our apartment complex in the early 80's. This young lady was not an especially clever thinker, but her heart was in the right place. Her breathless, drawling exclamation that, "Some of them are sweet as we are!" was an epiphany apparently inspired by an especially positive experience with a black person, the details of which I have since forgotten.
That this was a revelation to her was fascinating to us, and given her guileless personality, and of course, her state of being so, well, sweet, it had its charm. And sure, it was good she’d figured out such a thing. But the enjoyment of the memory dulls when considering what her exclamation laid bare. It betrayed her presumable view that some of "them" are not as sweet as we are, or worse, that … er… none of them are "sweet as we are." This is the us-and-them construct in raw form, and it's ugly even when uttered by the naive and kind-hearted.
That this was a revelation to her was fascinating to us, and given her guileless personality, and of course, her state of being so, well, sweet, it had its charm. And sure, it was good she’d figured out such a thing. But the enjoyment of the memory dulls when considering what her exclamation laid bare. It betrayed her presumable view that some of "them" are not as sweet as we are, or worse, that … er… none of them are "sweet as we are." This is the us-and-them construct in raw form, and it's ugly even when uttered by the naive and kind-hearted.
During that initial campaign announcement, Trump famously said, "When Mexico sends its people, they're not sending their best. They're not sending you. They're not sending you. They're sending people that have lots of problems, and they're bringing those problems with (sic) us. They're bringing drugs. They're bringing crime. They're rapists. And some, I assume, are good people."
As outrageous as that statement was, I was more bothered by the next one. (I reread the transcript of his remarks to confirm my memory.) Trump uses "it" to refer to "the bad ones". "They're sending us not the right people. It's coming from more than Mexico. It's coming from all over South and Latin America (sic), and it's coming probably -- probably -- from the Middle East."
As outrageous as that statement was, I was more bothered by the next one. (I reread the transcript of his remarks to confirm my memory.) Trump uses "it" to refer to "the bad ones". "They're sending us not the right people. It's coming from more than Mexico. It's coming from all over South and Latin America (sic), and it's coming probably -- probably -- from the Middle East."
One encounters such overt language more frequently in public now, but typically spoken by the proudly racist, at events like Klan rallies or associated with acts of violence by white nationalists. While it is still shocking to hear those folks "saying the quiet part out loud," hearing it from the lips of a U.S. presidential candidate is downright disorienting.
Some say it's better this way -- more explicit. How it differs from the stubborn practice of some clothing line manufacturers calling their beige shade selection of bras and pantyhose "nude". Or the way descriptors of race aren’t used in news stories except to differentiate people of color; or the observation, "You don't sound black." Such pervasive dismissals illuminate a constant undertone of undying racism, but hearing the "it" and "they", "good ones" and "bad ones" in otherwise socially acceptable settings is more of a smoking gun.
Some say it's better this way -- more explicit. How it differs from the stubborn practice of some clothing line manufacturers calling their beige shade selection of bras and pantyhose "nude". Or the way descriptors of race aren’t used in news stories except to differentiate people of color; or the observation, "You don't sound black." Such pervasive dismissals illuminate a constant undertone of undying racism, but hearing the "it" and "they", "good ones" and "bad ones" in otherwise socially acceptable settings is more of a smoking gun.
Meanwhile, on he goes: Trump continues to use the blatantly racist terminology in his campaign. And it continues to hit my ear like the utterance of a sheltered, Southern thirteen-year-old, or of a pretending-to-be-all-grownup fourth grader, on a playground in the 70's Midwest.
