The reason why I assumed your upbringing has played a role in the way you view the world is beause it seems to be so deep rooted, the only way you could have developed those views would have been through something as deep-rooted as your up-bringing. The other factor is the fact that american society is obsessed with skin colour, this permeates everything, so it would be very difficult for you to have not been influenced by that.
The problem is you were never able to make a disconnect seperating random strangers who don't look like you and negative stereotypes that you've learned (either by yourself or through other influences), and likely were not ever willing to.
Furthermore it's not so much about what black people have been through, it's about the amount of bias they continue to face in many different sectors, in a society that claims to be "post"-racial.
So... my father is African-American. I could legally identify myself as African American, if I so chose (I generally click of "mixxed" when it's available, or "other" when it's not).
Unlike 72% of youths born to black men, my parents were married at the time I was born (and beyond that, remain married today, over 40 years later).
My father is 0 generations removed from poverty. He was born into it, in the "old south". My grandfather (His father), a farmer, knowing that his children couldn't get the right kinds of opportunities that he wanted for them in life, packed them all up and moved north while they were children. They re-settled into the north, and generally worked their asses off. My grandparents put their kids through the public education system, with strict attention to their behavior and performance.
All of those children went on to college, primarily with the assistance of scholarships, and in adulthood at least moved into the middle class. Several of those children excelled greatly in their careers to the extent that they won accolades for their accomplishments.
Those children are my aunts and uncles. They're all successful, nice, African americans who, through effort on their own parts, moved past the hurdles that life put in front of them to find success.
This is contrasted with the uncle on my mother's side, the white one, who's an abusive cocaine addict & alcoholic.
So my early experiences with African Americans were all positive, because those people are my family and they're great people and great role models.
Beyond my family, I was raised in suburbia. I don't want to say predominantly WASPy (some were predominantly asian or Jewish, etc). But there weren't a lot of other black children. The ones I did come across at school were generally in the same situation that my dad was in a generation earlier (they had parents who were taking a vested interest in their upbringing and were raising pretty 'quality' children).
I did have a few negative experiences. Mostly at one middle school which I had to attend for an advanced placement style program not offered at my local middle school. That middle school was heavily african american. I had an african american student steal my lunch one day (it was liverwurst... hope he liked it). I had another african american student beat me up after school because he forgot to bring his art supplies to school and I wasn't willing to backup his lie that I had stolen his art supplies. But they were isolated incidents, and nothing that amounted to any amount of prejudice.
So up to college, I was very much one of those people who believes that everyone, regardless of race, can achieve success in life because throughout my childhood that's what I was surrounded by (shining examples of exactly that).
But then you hit adulthood. You can't hide away in the suburbs 24/7, and you have to deal with people in an urban setting. If you're taking mass transit (be it for environmental reasons, economic reasons, whatever), you're going to have to deal with it a lot. You get to hear the stories... the sob stories. It's always something. "Hey, I never do this, but I lost my train ticket and I'm trying to get to Smyrna, can you help me out?" "Hey, I never do this, but I lost my wallet on the way to work, can you help me get back home?" "Hey, I never do this, but I just got evicted from my apartment and I have nowhere to sleep".
The stories might really be sad, if you didn't hear the exact same stories, from the exact same people who've forgotten your face over the course of a week even though you haven't forgotten theirs.
People like the one black gentleman, to whom I gave quite literally the very last dollar I had in my wallet, said to me incredulously "That's it?". The same black gentleman who puffed himself up and threatened violence when I told him that he'd given me the same story the week prior.
That would be a different black gentleman from the one who threatened violence when I suggested that he was rude for asking for, and taking money from, a poor single mother travelling with her toddler.
I wish I could say it's just Atlanta, but you travel to Chicago, and you get a reasonably well dressed black man who calls you over on the street. You answer his calls and ask if you can help him with something. He starts off by thanking you for taking the time to talk with him, because apparently someone else had just said "sorry, I don't speak to n***ers" (an anecdote he relates to me). This is then of course, followed by, "Hey, I never do this, but I've lost my wallet. Can you spare ten bucks so I can get home. I work right up the block."
(That's the same day, by the way, that I saw three black youths sprinting down the street with an Asian woman's purse. I was in Chicago for one day... I really wish I was making this shit up, but such is life.)
It's not that one goes through life without seeing white panhandlers. I see them on freeway exits all the time, holding up their signs and a cup.
But it's that personal level... that being approached by a stranger who wants to speak with you. I wish I could say it doesn't happen this way, but over the course of years, whenever a black person has done this it's always as a part of solicitation for a free handout. With people of other races... any race... a lot of times it's just for the friendly conversation.
....
And then there's the public school system, post housing market crash. There's a lot of foreclosures out there... and a lot of rentals... and suddenly there's a lot of people showing up in suburban public schools who couldn't previously have afforded to be there.
My children are in the public school system. There have been three times that we've had to visit with the school administration because other children were putting their hands (and feet) on ours in an aggressive fashion. Three times... three different children.
Want to guess the race? You know where this conversation is going so I don't even need to say it, but yeah... three occasions of violence by other children... black kids every time. More specifically, black kids born into fatherless homes with inattentive mothers who really don't belong on this end of town, but the economy gave them some more mobility and they thought that by moving up here and continuing to put 0 effort into raising their kids that they'd magically come out well.
The percentage of black children at our school is still very small, but still... three outta three.
I'd entertain the possibility that my children could've had a role in it if they weren't, as I was, exposed to so many positive black role models from such an early age. Rather the opposite, a lot of the other kids at school are held of much more overtly racist opinions than they are (and for brevity's sake in an already long post, I won't run over some of those anecdotes).
And then you get to hear all the experiences your neighbors are having with the same groups of children... the one who's child had his scooter stolen by a teenager threatening violence... the one who had the pickets ripped off their fence by one of these same kids, etc yeah... that steady stream of negative and personally felt interactions that comes
only from one ethnicity... that's what changes your view.
And one day you find yourself listening to all the cries about all the bias they face and all you can think is "Booooo fucking hoo. My grandparents had it way the fuck worse than your goddamn worthless lazy ass did and they worked their way out of the situation. Pull up your fucking pants, pick up some free condoms instead of cranking out babies, and get a god damned job.
And if you can't... if you can't do shit with your life... that's something wrong with
you and that's no one's fault but yours. There's what I assume are illegal aliens that live up the road, and their dads are with their families and they're out at the gas station every freakin day looking for work. It's hot as hell down here and still they're standing out there in the hopes of finding someone to pay them to do what labor they can.
They're not even citizens in this country... they're so far behind your starting point it's sad... and they're working their asses off to try and move ahead.
People in Arizona get so up in arms about illegal immigration, and I think things like "Man, those aren't the people we need to be getting rid of!!"
Every time some black guy comes up to me and asks for change (which is still all too regularly), all I can think is "Man... I wish I could get away with saying "Sorry, I don't talk to n***ers".
...
So that's the impact that my upbringing had on shaping my views in life. I've had multiple first hand examples of what's possible in this country when you put your nose to the grindstone and really work. You may have to work harder than someone else does, but that can be said of everyone's situation in life.
That first hand knowledge of what black people can accomplish, but don't accomplish in this country, it drains me of empathy for their situation. I don't want to say it spills into antipathy and hatred, exactly. I have genuine friends, family, and coworkers who are black. I'm half black myself. If there's an open seat next to a black person on the train, I don't choose to stand. I don't wish strangers ill on the basis of their skin color. I still hold open doors, and smile at babies, and so on and so on.
But there's a level of suspicion that comes with being regularly 'burned'. Whereas once I might greet a black family that's moved into the neighborhood, I now keep to myself unless they come over to introduce themselves first. When I pass by a black youth on the street, I doublecheck that my wallet and backpack are secured.
I would love to say that I'm alone in this opinion... that I've just somehow become a sad, jaded adult wallowing in misery, but I've come to sense that it's a fairly wideheld opinion. If you've ever seen the Eddie Murphy skit wear he has a professional makeup artist turn him into a white man so he can see what they're like when blacks aren't around... it's a hilarious skit, but there's truth in it (and it's not limited to whites expressing the same opinions).
So... an extremely long story later, that's the path that led to the formation of my admittedly racist views.
If it's easier, you're free to ignore everything I've just said and argue some wacky alternative like I secretly hate the black part of myself and that I'm jealous of white people and that manifests itself as a hatred of the black community... or that my dad beat me (he never did) and that I secretly hate him and because I can't escape having him as a father that hatred instead manifests itself as a hatred of the black community.
You wouldn't be alone in making those kind of arguments. Some people just can't handle the fact that some people... on the basis of their first hand interactions with the African american community... come to find it a second rate culture and not only its own worst enemy, but its only enemy. They want to imagine a bunch of Joe Arpaio wannabes who hate anyone and everyone who's not just like them. I'm sorry, but life's just not that black & white.
