I experienced racism today

So that’s what it feels like.  It’s left me with yucky feelings on the inside on a couple of levels.  Mad, offended, frustrated, seething. How dare they?!?!Grrrrrr.

It would be just like God (wouldn’t it?) to, after I wrote the “make me deader” post, bring experiences into my life to accentuate how much deader I need to be.

I witnessed a traffic accident on the way to church this morning.  I saw everything.  I was running late but I stopped.  Just a fender-bender.  The guy in the Ford was clearly at fault, the lady in the pickup clearly wasn’t… although I confess sympathy for the guy because she was going 10-15km under the speed limit and holding up traffic.  I might have tried to pass her too.  But the accident was still his fault and that’s what I will tell the insurance company when they call.

I wrote out my name and phone number twice and handed it to each driver.  In that situation I don’t get into what I saw or who I think is at fault.  I just give my number… tell them to give it to autopac (the insurance company)… and I’ll tell autopac my story.

The guy in the Ford was appreciative I stopped.  He thanked me.  I gave him a pen so he could exchange info with the lady.  He was grateful.  He was the one at fault.

The lady was not at fault.  She was the victim.  I felt sorry for her that she had an accident because Ford guy got impatient and drove rashly.  The first words out of her mouth to me:  “you aren’t going to lie are you?”  Her voice was raised.  I was so taken aback.  I sputtered “why would I lie??”  It seemed so illogical to me… I’m an honest guy… I don’t know either of them… what would I possibly gain from lying?… it just didn’t make sense to me… I was confused.  Still not wanting to take sides in the middle of the situation I reiterated I would tell autopac exactly what I saw.

She became more and more agitated and was practically yelling “Don’t lie about it! - Are you going to lie??”.  Now I was getting mad - why would she instantly assume I would lie??  I was getting so offended and raising my voice a little myself “Why would I lie???  Why would I lie???”  I think I started waving my arms up and down too.

Then she said it.  “Don’t lie just because I’m Ashinabe!”  In a flash I realized some things that I honest-to-God hadn’t noticed right until that moment.  The Ford guy was white.  I was white.  She was native.  She was obviously visibly native but I had not noticed.  I had only seen people not race until she said that.  She was accusing me of being racist but actually she was being racist.  She assumed I would lie because I was white and I would stick with the white Ford guy.

I wasn’t just offended…I was hurt. I drove the rest of the way to church just shaking with anger. I can honestly say I don’t remember the drive. I’m not even sure how I got here. My colleagues at church let me vent. Let me be angry.

I feel yucky about how she offended me but I feel more yucky about how long I stayed angry. I mean I’m deader than that right? I work at a church for pete’s sake - aren’t I more sanctified than this?!

I feel yucky for the racism she must have experienced in her life that has hurt her and made her suspicious of me.

She just called me 2 hours later to apologise for getting mad at me. She said she didn’t realise I worked at a church (not sure what she meant be that), She’s second guessing herself in the accident.  She thinks maybe she was driving too cautious.  Maybe she signalled wrong.  The Ford guy made her feel bad that she was going too slow.  He made sure to tell her how much his car was worth.  (Her pickup was old and of the appearance that fender-benders probably actually improved it’s looks).  She’s worried her husband will get mad at her.  She apologised again.

I could have made sure she knew how much she upset me and offended me.  I could have rightly and righteously shown her how her accusations made HER the racist, not me.  I could have informed her that my wife spoke Cree as a first language when she was a kid growing up in a family that sacrificed everything to pour out their lives in ministry to remote reserves all over Canada.  I could have let her know that long before political correctness my dad raised me tolerant in the midst of uncles who’d spout slurs against natives.  That my dad had trained and worked alongside natives on the reserves and in the city and had always had a heart for their struggle and always shown them respect and dignity.  They all considered him their friend.

I told her it was no problem.  I told her I forgave her.  I hung up and cried a bit.  Oh God make me deader.

nooc