Growing Up Black

Ok, so I’m obviously not black. In fact, I’m practically albino. But you know what? I can relate. Not in a being-a-target-of-racism-on-a-constant-basis kind of way, but as much as any cracker raised in my circumstances can be said to relate.

You see, I grew up in the ‘80s and ‘90s on a steady diet of what might be considered “black pop culture.” I was raised watching The Cosby Show, A Different World, and In Living Color. I firmly believe that Richard Pryor is the funniest motherfucker to have walked this planet, and still to this day think that Eddie Murphy’s Raw and Delirious are among the best standup acts ever (if a little dated at times, as is the case with his gay jokes). It makes me sad when those younger than me seem to only remember Eddie from crap like Pluto Nash and The Klumps. He used to be funny, dammit, just like Michael used to be black and awesome!

On top of that, I grew up on a steady diet of R&B and funk. Prince, Earth Wind & Fire, Michael Jackson, Kool & The Gang…you name it, I listened to it. This was mostly due to the fact that my dad listened to it, and you can’t escape what your parents listen to, but that’s hardly the only reason. I loved that music, and I still do. I was rocking out to some old school stuff in the shower over the weekend, and I gotta tell ya, that shit is my happy place!

As I grew older I started listening to hip hop. I started with the gateway drug of the time, DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince, but quickly moved on to the hard stuff. Rob Base & DJ E-Z Rock. Digital Underground. A Tribe Called Quest. I remember eagerly awaiting the release of Snoop Doggy Dogg’s Doggystyle (which is still easily his best album). And I am now the proud owner of a hip hop collection to rival that of any hip hop head with limited hard drive space.

Now I can hear some people muttering, “That shit doesn’t make you black,” and you’re right. Being black makes you black. A simple twist of genetic fate, as it were. But part of who we are as adults is what we experienced as kids, both everyday interactions with the rest of humanity and the culture that we experience. I may not know what it’s like to be a black kid realizing for the first time that racism exists, but, for what it’s worth, there’s a hell of a lot of overlap in the area of cultural experience.

I know damn well that Homey don’t play that. I mentally giggle every time I hear someone talk about Dwayne Wade, because all I can think of is Dwayne Wayne and those glasses. When something ominous happens in a TV show or movie, I often yell out “…And then a big brown shark came!” despite the fact that no one ever seems to know what the hell I’m talking about.

I know that it takes two to make a thing go right. I like it like Debarge. I feel for you like Chaka Khan. The Gap Band dropped a bomb on me! Hell, I couldn’t tell you when John Denver or Kurt Cobain died, but I know that Tupac died in the fall of ’96. I remember exactly where I was—in the kitchen of my parent’s old house, wishing that what I was hearing from the living room was a bad joke.

That’s got to count for something, and I think it’s a large part of why there’s less overt racism these days. Racism—hatred in general—is rooted in fear, generally the fear of the unknown. But I—and the people of my generation and beyond—grew up experiencing many of the same things that black kids our age experienced. This has led us to empathize and understand each other in ways that might have been impossible, or at least unlikely, for those who came before us. In other words, pop culture has helped kids—who are by nature accepting—bridge the gap that race often presents to us.

I just wish there was a little more acknowledgment of this fact. We Geeks Who Drink quizmasters have a private Facebook group where we talk shop, shoot the shit, and make myriad tasteless jokes, and within this group has grown a running gag in which I’m a racist. This is due to my naïve proclivity to quote black culture. I program the quizzes, which means I pick which rounds go in which night’s quiz and then upload the quiz so that the QMs across the country can download it and do their thing. This means I hear “When is tomorrow’s quiz going up?” on a pretty regular basis. A week or two ago someone asked this question a might bit early for my taste, so when I finally did get it posted I affected a slave accent and paraphrased Bernie Mac, asking if they wanted me to do anything else, like shine their shoes (about the :50 mark). Now some people would inevitably find this offensive, but I can’t for the life of me understand why. I’m quoting a line from a movie. The fact that the character is black and that there are racial aspects of what he’s saying is irrelevant to me. What is relevant is the quote to the situation. And that’s why I said it. End of story.

Racism is about intent. Some asshole threating to lynch a black guy is malicious, overt racism. Me saying, “I’m callin’ niggas out like the umpire” along with Lil Wayne is most assuredly not meant to hurt anyone’s feelings, no matter what color my skin is. Martin Luther King Jr. dreamed of a world in which his kids (and presumably everyone else’s) were judged by the content of their character, not their skin color. I’d like to see that too. And yet, in the aforementioned situation, I am being judged by the color of my skin. Some may say, “Boo hoo,” and point out that it’s hardly the same level of racism blacks deal with every day.

And they’re right.

But that’s not the point, is it? The point is that we can be above that kind of pettiness. In fact, we have to be above that kind of pettiness if we really want equality. We don’t have to compare marks in the win-loss columns to see who’s got the advantage. We can wipe the slate clean, give each other the benefit of the doubt, and start being as colorblind as Stephen Colbert. At least, I like to think we can. But I don’t know what it’ll take. Maybe it’ll take the Civil Rights-era people dying off. It surely must be hard to be the better person when you’ve seen so much human cruelty aimed your way. I really don’t know, but I do know that if we want to move forward then we need to stop paying so much attention to what’s behind us and focus on what’s ahead.

My hopes aren’t too high, but I hope that in my lifetime I get to see our species better itself a bit. I’d like to see us take better care of our planet, worship money less, and take the stick out of our collective politically over-correct ass and learn to relax. You’re a dude and want to marry another dude? Have fun with that, and good luck. You wanna smoke some weed in the privacy of your own home and then demolish the pint of Ben & Jerry’s in the freezer? Have fun, and try to get a run in or something to offset all those calories. And if I want to rap along to a song with the word “nigga” in it, then I should be able to do so, no matter whose company I’m in.

I mean, really, what’s a honky gotta do to get some love up in this bitch?