Ridgell's Originals

Recently saw The Help. Good movie. Go see it. It got me to thinking about the three events that most strongly formed my thinking about race -- especially with African Americans. So I thought I would share them.

The first happened when I was 11 or 12 years old. My uncle (or maybe it was my Pap-pa) and I were at a feed store in southwestern Arkansas. The were barrels with checkerboards on them and many of the oldtimers would play a game while picking up their feed. I thought I was pretty sharp and I had learned to play checkers but I never could get a seat.

Then one day I noticed a seat staying vacant. After no one sat there for several minutes, I siezed my chance. Didn't even think to ask my Uncle. The player on the other side was a black man. It never dawned on me there might be a reason no one would play with him. And I was quickly aware that I had done something I shouldn't have.

You are probably hoping that this was a great story of racial reconciliation. Bit it's not. My opponent never said a word to me other than "your move". The game was over in just a couple of minutes. He humiliated me. I was mad, embarressed, and still sensing something wasn't quite right.

My uncle never said a word about it. We just left. And I didn't ask. I have since wondered how he felt about what I did. Did I make it awkward for him. I must have. So looking back on it, I realized a couple of things that influenced my thinking about race.

One is that racism is not always taught, but it sure is learned. I am not sure anyone said that no one was to play checkers with a black man. Some things were just understood. I am not even sure that those men would have realized they were racist. It was just the way things were. The Civil Rights movement was underway, but it hadn't really made it to that part of the world. Colored water fountains and restrooms were still in use. I am not sure anyone intended to treat people differently because of their skin color. It was just part of their environment.

But I learned a great lesson: people are people no matter what their color. That man wanted to humiliate me. There was no teaching this kid, no bonding across racial lines. I don't know if this was his way to strike back at the injustice of those times, or if he was just mean. For all I know, no one would play checkers with him because a) he was black, or b) he was mean. I have no idea how many times he sat in that store staring at an empty chair, waiting on someone to sit down.

But I also learned that day that black people were just like everyone else -- some were nice, some were not. Skin color didn't make the difference. It would have been a nicer story had I been able to say I learned that day that black people were sweet and nicer than anyone else. But the truth is, I had never thought about black people one way or the other. I guess that's why I never thought twice about sitting down. I saw an empty chair and didn't pay any attention to who was on the other side. I didn't think about it until it started getting quiet.

I am not sure I processed all that at the time, but it did make me aware that racism was real. And that the color of your skin had nothing to do with your character.

Next time I will share what happened my Senior year in High School.

So maybe you will think about -- and share -- some of those moments that shaped your thinking about race.