My First Personal Expereience of Racism in Chicago

I knew it existed, but it was one of those realities that you don't think about; like when you sit on a chair and you just know it will hold you up, but you don't really think about it. Or like mugging you know? It happens all the time, but we don't think about it until it happens to us.

Well it happened to me.

Anna and I were leaving a store in Chicago and we were walking to our car. Once we got to the parking lot Anna took a left around a car and I took a right. The car that we split was a silver BMW jeep with a middle aged (60's) man getting in on the driver's side and what I assume was his wife getting in on the passenger's side. We approached the car from the front and I was passing it on the driver's side. As we got closer I heard something said by the man, but I thought that I heard wrong. I didn't.

The phrase:

Niggers and Spicks

Now I thought that I had misheard the man because of my own history and how I've been affected by racism. You know... he was a white man, well dressed in a shirt, tie and slacks getting into a nice car with a Latino coming towards him. I was actually worried that he might be fearful and was hoping he wasn't. So, when I turned around to make sure it wasn't him and that I was wrong, he was starting me down with a face that I would characterize as pure disdain mixed in with disgust and disapproval. I was shocked. I didn't know what to do or say. He got in the car and drove off. I have never been called that and have never experienced that kind of hatred towards me in such an open way. I was numb.

So the man drives off and Anna meets me on the other side of the car. She knew something was wrong immediately so I told her what happened, but she didn't know how to respond. I can't really blame her, she never experienced that either, and now the person that she loves the most was deeply hurt.

I soon turned from numbness to pain... then to anger... then to more anger...

In my anger I wished I could have gone back in time and answered the man. I wished that I could prove him wrong. I wished that I could deck him if need be! I thought, "I thought, who the HELL does he think HE is! You want me to be ghetto!? I'll SHOW you ghetto!" But then I would have continued the stereotype even though a large part of me didn't care and wanted to get even.

He was so ignorant and hatred blinded him. I wasn't even wearing anything that any "white person" wouldn't wear. I didn't look ghetto or like I would be in a gang. I looked like me. DANG IT! I still get mad thinking about it.

Deep breath...

Okay, well I quickly got to the point that day where I wanted to tell everyone... So I did... I posted it on my Twitter which then forwarded to Facebook. Many people sympathized, but it didn't make me feel much better. Again, I wanted to get even in the depth of my heart.

It took a few days to allow the LORD to work in my heart to open the wound, clean it, and then heal it. I felt like I assume a child feels when they hurt themselves and they don't want anyone to touch it. But then dad comes and puts something on it that makes us feel better when in all actually what we really wanted from dad was to be loved in our pain.

I really do pray that that man changes and that he gets overwhelmed by love. All that hatred must be rotting his heart and as I look at my scar from this incident I feel saddened by him. I'm healed, but he's still sick. I hope the next time this happens to me I'll quickly look at my scar and share the healing love of Christ instead of using my sharp knife of a tongue to cut him.

LORD, be in control.