By Joel Perdue
I spent the better part of a decade hating people. Blacks, Jews, Homosexuals, Asians, Latinos, and everyone that wasn’t a god fearing white person. This hate was not taught at home, but rather by a culture that turned a blind eye to my words and actions.
I was raised in the suburbs by very progressive parents. Parents that lived through the civil rights movement and saw pure hate first hand. My parents always taught us that I was no better than anyone else. They taught us about racial equality. They shared stories of crosses being burned in their yard growing up because the KKK thought they paid their house keeper too much. I definitely didn’t learn hate at home.
I think the trouble started for me in high school. All through school I never fit into any group, until I met the “Hicks” in high school (that what we proudly called ourselves). We listened to country music, had an affinity for lifted trucks and cheap beer. We proudly wore our confederate flag attire, and any time we were asked to remove it, we started spouting off about our rights being trampled on.
That’s exactly what happened when our high school banned us from wearing the confederate flag. We started acting as the victim and took aim at the indigenous people of our school. They had a “Native Pride Club”. We fought like hell with the school to be able to have a “European American Club” to celebrate people of European heritage (AKA white people). Spoiler alert, the school fought back even harder and the club never happened. I felt like the victim and we all patted ourselves on the back for a good job trying. The school never contacted our parents. They didn’t actually do anything other than take off our hats with confederate flags or turn our shirts inside out that had the flag too.
Fast forward to my senior year. My senior year saw me withdraw a bit from my friends. I had renewed my love for punk rock, and had found a white supremacist record label and started listening to the music more and more. I was reading and participating in online forums. I even started participating in an initiative to pass out white supremacist music at schools. It was directly targeted at children. This brought me into contact with racist organizations, and they saw this young, angry, entitled, white kid and reeled me in quickly.
I ended up joining a national racist organization and participated behind the scenes for quite some time. My parents started to notice more and more what was going on and we would fight constantly about it. I was driven deeper into the clutches of the racist organization because in my mind “they understood me”. I started to participate more openly. In marches, on the steps of the capitol building. I was on the news. I was in newspapers. I was openly spewing my venom to anyone and everyone. To my family and the people I loved. I took part in things I'm very ashamed of today. Things I wish I could take back.
After about 4+ years of being an active, out in the open racist, I started to actually feel like what I was doing was wrong. I don't know what changed, or if my parents finally got through to me or what. I started to feel incredibly trapped. These were scary people I was involved with. People I saw do terrible shit. I didn't know how to stop.
After one more of my public displays of hate my father gave me the perfect out. He sat me down and very seriously and gravely said “Son, now is the time to make a decision. You have hurt so many in your family. A family made up of every race and ethnicity. Your choice is your family or your racism. If you choose your family, you make the call right now to whomever and tell them it's over. If you choose racism you pack you shit and get out and don't have any contact with your family anymore”. I was so relieved. I tearfully called whoever was “in charge” of our racist group and told them I was out. My tears were not because I was sad to leave. I was crying because I was free now.
I wasn’t immediately “woke” at that point. I was just a little less racist. I was wallowing in my white privilege (and alcoholism). I was still very “right leaning” and still very much full of anger. But as time went on, these ideals softened. I finally got sober at 30 years old, and that's when my life completely changed. I have spent the last 4+ years really exploring what I truly believe. Questioning my beliefs. Did I believe this shit because I really believed it? Or was this a residual belief of an angry youth? I started to really live life as a non-racist. And believe in true equality.
Then the murder of George Floyd happened. There had been so many other senseless murders of people of color over the years. But for some reason this one affected me in my core. It shook me. To watch that man die at the hands of a police officer in real time and immediately was profound to me. George Floyd’s murder has made me realize that to just be non-racist was not enough. I Had to be ANTI-racist. I had to be active, and I had to be an ally. I’m not sure what that means for me yet. Here is my vow, and a vow I hope many other white people make. I vow to be an ally to all people of color and learn and educate myself as to what that means. I vow to take action to and be active in ending racism and police brutality. I vow to work to change the world and repair the damage I have caused any way that I can.
How do I plan to uphold these vows? To be completely honest, I don’t know, But as a start I plan to open my ears to my Black Brothers and Sisters and Trans siblings. I know it’s not their job to train me. I will watch, and I will listen, and I will observe. And anyone that feels compelled to share experiences, lessons, or anything else I’m all ears. I promise to be a student. Also, I will call out injustice whenever I see it. I will no longer turn a blind eye because “it doesn’t directly affect me”. I hope to have the chance to share the experiences from my time perpetuating hate with youth, the kids that are just like I was. Angry, hurting, and lost, to hopefully steer them down a road of love and peace and inclusiveness.
My plan moving forward is not rigid. I plan to be agile in my pursuit to uphold my vow. Willing to change with feedback and lessons. Now is the time for action, and I am taking it.