Racism? In South Georgia? The Hell You Say?

August 12, 2004

By: Mike Talley

I wrote an essay a few months ago about racism. It pretty much sucked. I felt “inspired” to write the piece and as a result have now learned to never, never write when I feel “inspired”. You see, I live in South Georgia and if you have not heard, blacks and whites sometimes have a hard time getting along down here. It is sad but true. My essay was an attempt to show how I had progressed from what I termed a “closet racist” to someone who abhors racism and racist attitudes. Things fell apart and quickly spiraled out of control into a mess of self flagellation over past attitudes and actions. In summary, when I was a child I was a closet racist; as an adult, nothing could be farther from the truth. The essay? Well, it is still on my hard drive as a reminder what horrible things can happen when one feels “inspired”. So this essay is going to take a different rout.

I do not understand all the ins and outs of why blacks and whites can not get along. I know they can in some places, but here? Well, that is another story. Things used to be tough for blacks, especially in the South. The passing of the Civil Rights Laws in the 1960’s definitely made things easier, but one thing still remains, and it is a tough one to deal with. Attitude. These attitudes permeate throughout the fabric of southern culture. Often they are the result of age (being raised during certain time periods) or just plain acceptance (it is how all their friends think). Most of these are based on stereotypes and self fulfilling prophecies. Neither of which I am going to get into here. What I wanted to write about are several experiences I have had that show how these attitudes still exist, some 40 years after the Civil Rights Laws. I think these attitudes help explain a little about why there is such distrust among the races. Let me say up front that both sides have more than enough room for improvement. I will let other, more qualified people debate those things.

My Grandmother (we called her Granny) used to call black people “niggras”, a cross between negro and ni—er. My mom asked her why she called them that instead of blacks or African Americans. Her response was basically that is what peopled called them when she was growing up. She was raised on tobacco farms in North Carolina where the share croppers who worked the land were little more than slaves. She was family and I loved her. Part of me wants to think that she meant nothing by what she said. That she was just a product of her generation. After all, she was born only a little over 50 years after the Civil War ended.

A story was related to me by some friends of ours concerning a conversation with a lady of similar age and upbringing as my Granny in the late 1970’s. These friends of ours had just moved to South Georgia after spending most of their lives in California and several years in Europe. They were at a church picnic and were being introduced to several of the church member’s extended family. One of the church members mother happened to be from Plains, Georgia. Our friend asked her “How many people live in Plains?” To which she responded “Including the ni—ers?” Needless to say, our friend was appalled and told her “yes, why don’t we count them as well”.

Products of their generation. This “Old South” guard is quickly dying out, but their legacy was unfortunately passed on to the next generation.

My Mom and Dad’s generation is the last generation to remember a time before de-segregation. They have had the unique opportunity to see real change during their teenage and young adult lives. Some grasped the new way, while some held on to their parent’s ideas and beliefs.

When I worked for the railroad, I was doing a job down in Mobile, Alabama. The survey technician that was working with me, Carry, was a 20 railroad veteran and happened to be black. He and I hit it off great and had many exciting experiences out on the rails during my 3 years with the railroad. We were surveying for a new track near the State Docks for an asphalt plant. The owner of the plant came out to check on us. He and I chatted about the project and if he had any concerns about the layout or cost. All the while Carry was standing next to me. The owner turned to me and asked “How about lunch after you and your boy finish up?” I think I blinked in disbelief. Had he just said what I thought he said? Apparently so, as Carry began muttering under his breath. The owner walked away, but I had to calm Carry down. I told him that he couldn’t have meant what he said. That he was just a dumb redneck. Stuff like that. The rest of the time down there, Carry would glare at the owner and begin muttering something each time he saw him.

A more recent example happened a few months ago. I had taken my oldest son fishing at the lake house of a recent company retiree. He and his wife are more of an acquaintance than friends, but they offered the use of their dock and I took them up on the offer. After fishing all morning, they offered to take my son and me on a boat ride around the lake to look at the houses. It was a great trip with many beautiful homes to look at. We rounded a bend and entered a cove when this guy’s wife pointed out one house in particular. It was owned by a doctor or a lawyer or something. She began explaining the unique origin of the house. The house was old and had been moved to the lake and elevated. She told me that this person had “taken one of those ni—er houses from Albany” and had it brought to the lake. It caught me so off guard that I did not know what to say. Fortunately, my son began asking me a question about the boat or some such thing. It was absolutely amazing that someone who I consider to be just an acquaintance would feel that comfortable saying that in front of me. It was assumed that you feel the same way she does.

I am afraid that many people from my parent’s generation harbor the same attitudes that their parents had. What about my generation? Hopefully we are doing better, but it is hard to say.

We had a CAD operator that used to work for my company. He had been hired from the City’s Engineering Department. I had him digging up information on sewers and manholes in the City as he was the most familiar with the layout and location of the sewer system. One day he was in my office and we had just gone over a bunch of information when he began telling me about working for the city. This was all fine and dandy until he said “I was such a good worker, that it took three ni—ers to take my place.” I should have stood up and told him to not use that word around me, but to my shame, I only said something to the effect of “I don’t know about that”. I know he is raising his children to believe just as he does.

I know these are extreme examples, but I wrote about them to show how widespread these attitudes can be. They cross generational and gender lines to show up all over the place. These were all good church going people too. I am sure that they have their reasons for their beliefs and I am sure they feel that they are justified. But they are probably based on stereotypes and on beliefs instilled while they were young.

We have a long way to go. I am not enough of a historian, theologian, scholar, politician, magician or wizard to be able to sort out the mess and say who is at fault and what steps need to be taken. But these types of attitudes do not help the situation and only serve to “seed” the next generation. We can do better.