I was born in Elizabethton, TN. I lived there until I was 8. We moved to Orlando, Florida shortly after my aunt and uncle moved here. My parents, 2 siblings and I lived in a small high low camper for almost a year while my parents saved and found a place to live. At least that was what I was told. I was a cute little girl. One who had already been through more than any 8 year old should have to go through.
To say my parents were/are racist is probably an
understatement. I know they had a couple of friends of different races who they
seemed to really like but their words and actions outside of that, did not
support those “friendships”.
Imagine an 8th grade
young girl, getting asked to a 9th graders
prom. It would be my first real dance. I was extremely afraid to even ask my
parents if I could go. I was basically never allowed to go anywhere or do
anything. I was cook, housekeeper, and babysitter. I was not allowed even to
play in my own yard. School and home was my life. Afraid, abused and defeated.
It took lots of courage to ask. My father asked who he was. I told him his name
and he said, what is he. I honestly did not know what he was saying at this
point. My dad said is he white. I said his father is and his mother is
Vietnamese. That is all it took. Besides the beating that followed, it happened
to be around D day and my father made me sit and watch D day shows. I think
they felt bad for what they did to me and my ignorance and allowed me to go to
the dance but thinking I was going alone. I did meet the young man there and I
told him what had happened. Understandably we could no longer be “boyfriend and
girlfriend”. My parents would never allow it. Besides hearing derogatory names
and jokes, this was my first time really realizing what racism was. This was not
the first time I realized I was different from my parents and it was (and still
is) not the last. My parents have since divorced and I have not had a
relationship with my father in 20+ years. My mom, I tried. I tried hard. There
was a time while my daughter was in high school, my mom was visiting. We went
to watch one of the drama performances. We went to grab burgers after with my
daughter, her friends and her boyfriend. One of her friends, I loved, his name
was Shy. Not sure if it was his given name or a nickname. I am not sure what
his nationality is but his complexion was dark. After dinner we left and my mom
asked which young man was her boyfriend. He was a tall young man, white in
complexion. She said how relieved she was. I was like why?. And she said I
thought it was the other boy. We had a fight about it. I made it clear that was
not her problem. I now have not had a relationship with my mom for over 5
years. My parents see nothing wrong with their thinking or behavior. Racism is
not the reason I don’t have a relationship with them, it is just a contributing
factor. My whole life I have been trying to escape their thoughts and ways.
With all of that being said, let me get to what I am
trying to convey. I married a southern boy, he married a southern girl. What I
mean about that is we love the south. We love living in the south, we love
country music, southern rock, bluegrass, we love country cooking, we love the mountains, and we love the
country! Although we have not participated in Living History events in a couple
of years, we are Living Historians. My husband has portrayed both the Union and
Confederate soldier. We love history! Especially history that pertains to
our heritage. I have a substantial amount of Cherokee Indian in me. I can not
get enough of the Cherokee History! I love the Victorian time period, including
the civil war. I love the beautiful gowns, the homes, the food and the manners. I have empathy for the suffering. I have portrayed a Southern Woman on many occasions teaching manners, teas, a widow in mourning and
costuming to various groups. Are there people who love what we do that are
racist? YES! Are there people in our family that are racist? YES! Are there
people we encounter on a daily basis racist? YES! What I am trying to say is
there are stupid, ignorant people in this world. We need to deal with those
people and not lump everyone else into those groups. I have a confederate flag.
I don’t fly it above my home and I don’t use it to promote white supremacy,
which I do not believe in. Does that flag represent hurt to some,
absolutely! I am sure it is a reminder of what our ancestors have gone through.
Has it been used in an ugly way, of course!! The confederate flag is still a
representation of Southern Heritage to some also. Like I said I am a southern
girl, I have never thought of using that to hurt anyone. I have also never
thought that there would come a day were being a southerner would not be a part
of who I am in a positive light. Taking away the flag and monuments and
landmarks will not stop what is happening our country. We have to deal with the
people who perpetrate the hate and crimes. More than anything
I personally think we need God. We need to remember why we are
here now, together. God put us at this place and this time.
God created us each divinely. Each to have free will,
each to come to their own understanding, yet society wants us all to believe
and act the same. We are not the same. Many of us make horrible decisions that
affect and hurt others. Let’s hold those people accountable instead of lumping
everyone and everything in one big basket.
I am not sure if I really have a point here. I just know that
God tells us to love. He tells us that His Word and Will is sacred. Let’s teach
that. Let’s teach the true meaning of His Words and not our “own
understanding”. Let’s stand up for His Word.
Afterall, He created you in His image.
Take a sweet look in the mirror.
Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV) “For I
know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper
you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
Peace, Love and EnJoy
Great blog Diane! We are kindred spirits seems like. My father was racist and he was bully....he wasn't happy unless he was bullying me or my mom around. Very strict on me and it seems like now at this age, I may have been cheated out of a father --as so many things got his time and attention but me. Being an only child, I took refuge at my grandparents house to have my cousins to play with. He passed away a little over 11 years ago at the young age of 57 but he self inflicted his death...drinking, smoking --high strung all the time.
ReplyDeleteI had a bit of his ways in my 20's but I am sure glad I out grew it. Now at age 45 I'm proud of the woman I've become...much wiser too!
Thanks for this story! Its heart touching! I'm sorry that you don't have the relationship you should w/ your parents. I am real close to my mom as she and I think a lot alike. ((hugs))
You are so very blessed to be close to your mom. Both of my parents have been miserable. By their own doing (of course they always say how everyone does everything to them).
DeleteI am so very happy to hear, that like me, you came to your own. It really takes a strong person to realize and standup for what is right. I am so sorry you had to endure in your younger years. Our journey leads to our destination ;)
Love you!!