Follow Up: A Side Note About Complexions

I'm not entirely sure why this particular tidbit is hitting the press so hard, but it seems there's an impression that the same man who denied minority children who had a membership to his pool any further access after racist parents became upset, was the same who ran a blood drive supporting my commander in chief- President Barrack H. Obama. It's an odd coincidence, what with the massive racial implications of this mess, but it leads me to wonder if his wording- changing the "complexion" and atmosphere of the pool- was little more than a slip, or repetition of something said to him by one of these less-than-worthy parents. I am one to try to see the best in people, but, generally, I'm also the type who prefers 'hell no' to arse kissing. I suspect the parents came to this man having their racist temper tantrums, afraid the color would somehow rub off on their children and make them less aryan bastards, and the man was so overwhelmed by the response that he did the only thing he knew how to in order to diffuse the situation. I am not, by any means, defending this man; I am merely hoping that my see-the-best-in-people methods aren't completely doomed. Perhaps he is racist, but my suspicion is he was walked on by those hateful parents who's children fleed the pool because there were people of color getting in it. I think the outcome will be one hell of an apology from a man who's biggest issue is a complete lack of spine rather than moral fortitude. Personally, I would have done the opposite and told the mothers to hop in their Hitlermobile and find a whiter pool if they had issues with other paying members.
Racism is, truly, one of my biggest triggers. I grew up in a predominantly Hispanic area of the country, my town was heavily Mexican, and many that weren't were Mescalero Apaches, and I was, with my sister, the only Gringo child on the block. I am a quarter native, which is one of those things I laugh when I say because, no matter how much pride I have in this, everyone has native in them these days, and thinks it makes them special or less white somehow. I don't particularly care for race, but my roots- both ethnically and culturally- mean a lot to me. I still have a ridiculous pull to the Mexican culture- not because of any ethnic origin or tie (I don't have a drop of that) but because it's what I grew up with, and I love it, and find pride in that. The real irony of that is that I was jumped by 3 local Mexican girls at the age of 11- 2 of 3 of them I'd known since before Kindergarden- because of my skin color, and because they thought it'd make them look cool. I recently straightened out a soldier who perpetually found it humorous to call me Cracker. He's a light skinned, mixed-race male, a couple years my senior, if I recall. He's half, or maybe a quarter, black. He's extremely light skinned, and, had I turned the tables and called him Cracker, or Nigger, or Half-breed, or Oreo, or any other racial slur, it just wouldn't have been funny any more. Race is not a proving ground. Race is not a reason, a belief, a paycheck, an education, a neighborhood, an upbringing, and no, it's not even a culture. The color of a man's skin will not tell me where he was born and raised, nor where his parents are from. It will not tell me if he was raised in a good home, with good morals or if he was in a 'broken' home where he was left to fend for himself more often than not. Look at me, and you see a "white girl". I carry myself with pride, I'm intelligent, I don't let people walk on me, I have good manners and a good heart. To some people that means I grew up in a rich neighborhood with a good education and a close family. In truth, my parents divorced when I was 2, and my whole childhood resembled a long, poorly made Lifetime movie. Multiple fights, injuries, hospitalizations, foster homes, medications, lies, deaths, moves, boyfriends and 2 rapes later, I was forced to grow up quickly. Only a few months before my 21st birthday, the lies I'd been told my entire life began unravveling, and I had to take responsibility for a lot of things I was unprepared for, and start fresh in a way I never could have understood as I did it. I grew up in bad neighborhoods, hearing drive-by shootings in the middle of many nights, and seeing things, within my home, and on the outside, that I never should have known about. I may look like just another "white girl" but if you think I'm some rich, snotty, barbie-doll wanna be princess, you need to open your eyes and realize nothing is as simple as skin color. Nothing.