Over the Thanksgiving break, I had an opportunity to go to South Carolina, where I am originally from. During my visit at my grandmother’s house, there was an intense conversation on racism and its existence in society. My grandmother has a plethora of stories concerning the injustices of African American race being made to feel inferior to Caucasians. This trip was a therapeutic venture for me because I had the opportunity to examine myself, life and prior endeavors during this trip as well. The generation before my time experienced racism at its peak in the South during the Civil Rights Movement, while I had never encountered such acts of discrimination like my grandmother. I thought that racism was dead, or at least at its lowest point, due to the widespread growth of interracial relationships, and the fact that we now have a Black president, which led me to really sit back and evaluate some of the things that are going on around us in the world.
As my grandmother told me that racism was still alive, I thought in my mind that "We don’t live like that anymore." However, I reached the conclusion that racism is not dead, it’s just not as blatant and is shown less subtle ways such as: being underpaid, one ethnic group getting the maximum amount of time or fines for a crime, or simply the zoning of neighborhoods according to ones financial bracket. Even though I never experienced racism to the magnitude of generations that came before me enduring physical punishment such as being sprayed with a water hose, being beat, or spit on, I came to realize that racism is still alive, and the way that it is hidden in society makes it hurt more than being called nigger. Dealing with modern day racism can cause a particular enclave to feel inferior, degrades one’s worth and snatches one’s hope away that equality truly reigns in a Democratic society; further perpetuating crime, lack of desire for education and other destructive behaviors on the minority’s end.
As I came back to Atlanta, I thought about our conversation thoroughly, and remembered, as a child, a place called "The Redneck Shop." I desired to see if it was still open so I ventured and as I rode by, I noticed that the Open Light was red and the doors were wide open with KKK customs and rebel flags on the outside. This answered my question that I posed at my grandmothers house! As long as those doors are open, they have faithful customers and the store is generating revenue, then we are not too far from the past. Racism is still alive in 2012, which is unjust to the hard working black citizens, in that town, that have to ride by that place on a daily basis reminding them of what happened, forever keeping the spirit of racism and inferiority alive.
