I can't believe she said or even thinks that

chickensducks&agoose :

As far as correcting others: If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem. Behave the way Jesus wants you to, with LOVE.

My parents are in their late 80s. My Aunt is 96. They would be shocked if I told them that some of the things they say are a bit racist--they are far more tolerant than their predecessors, and they have undergone monumental changes in attitudes over the course of their lives.

I will speak up and say that the city they live in seems to me to be FAR more racist than it was when I was growing up there in the 60's & 70's, and by and large it is ethnic groups that are generating it. If a "white" person in any sort of position of power were to make broad claims lambasting a minority, the entire world would hear about it on the evening news. But every time I visit home, I read newspaper articles where a political leader of one ethnic group or another has lambasted "whites" or some different ethnic group. It is truly sad. Whatever happend to judging based upon "the content of their character"?

Pinapple Mama, I love your comment:
Maybe if EVERYONE was forced to keep chickens they'd get it... that the genes matter, but so does the hen that raises you... and it don't matter if she's red, white, green, blue or purple so long as she's your mama she's a good mama.... we could learn a lesson there... OR the pig who nursed tiger pups... or the dog who nursed kittens... heck those aren't even the same species and they can deal... really, it's quite pathetic that our species is so 'evolved' that we can't even recognize each other as being one species.​
 
Ugh, stuff like this always amazes me that it even exists.
My 82 year old grandmother told me an amazing story that shows just how bad things used to be, and for me somewhat explains how some people can still be so dumb.
She and my grandfather (both white) were at the New Orleans court house (with my 3 year old dad in tow), finishing the paperwork so they could adopt another child. Grandad was in another room, doing paperwork, and Grandmom and my dad were sitting on a bench with lots of other people, quietly waiting.
A police officer approached where they were sitting and started yelling at the people sitting around her (all black) to get away from the white lady and get in the back rows where they belonged. My grandmother, ever the civil disobedient, calmly picked up her baby and went to sit on the back row with the black men. The officer was too floored to say anything.
She tells me how stuff like this used to happen all the time, and it makes my skin crawl. She's also told me that she wasn't even aware that some people were treated differently until the first time she rode a bus at age 14. She has said that it was the biggest shock of her life. She'd known black people as a child, her nanny, their cook, etc, but she didn't know that these much loved family friends had to live like that. She said the bus thing was what turned her into an activist.

So not all old folks suck :-P
 
Good for your grandmother! I think that my parents and aunt are amazingly unpredjudiced based upon how they were raised. It is just that there are still some residual traces that appear in language that most folks would not say in this day and age (none of them have EVER used profanity), and a few attitudes.
 
Sonoran Silkies, you are *totally* right about the generational thing when it comes to language! My grandmother has said a few whoppers to be sure. Last time she came to visit, we drove past a barbecue place near my house that is covered in "Go, Stillman football!" signs. (Stillman is a historically black college)
She saw this and suggested that we eat there because "blacks are better at barbecue"...
I nearly busted a vein laughing. I mean, I know she doesn't intend anything racist, she's the total opposite of racist, but she totally does not get that you cannot say stuff like that. :-P
 
Young people, PLEASE don't judge all us old folks just because we're old and have seen many changes in the past 60 years. My dad was Irish, remember the slogan for some jobs. NO IRISH NEED APPLY, also I married a half indian, more raists remaks. So we have tried to raise our children different , no matter the color of the skin, the blood still runs red. marrie
 
We had a 'from the mouths of babes' moment when our son was... ohhh 2?3? maybe?

We were in Walmart, my sis (only 14 or so then) and me and Alex, and we're toodling along and this (older african american, maybe grandma age) lady came up and started saying what a cutie Alex is... he is rather cute if I do say so myself... got his daddy's big beautiful eyes... ahem... *depuffs feathers* anywho... once she started walking away... had gotten all of 5ft away Alex looked up and said in a clear voice "That chocolate lady liked me" My sister just about died and went to hide on a different aisle... afraid the lady would be offended... she wasn't that I noticed... donno if she even heard...

But I wouldn't be offended if a 2 year old 'chocolate' child called me vanilla... that's just an observation, nothing bad... especially if you consider that Alex's favorite flavor in the world is chocolate... then it's actually a compliment... at least that's how I would see it... (now if he'd said mud or poo or something maybe) but we'd never told him anything mean about different skin tones, actually never covered it one way or the other different just happens... so his little mind came up with it's own comparison. I thought it was cute, my sis was hiding... go figure.
 
From the mouths of babes is right.

My kids go to a daycare which is REALLY mixed, and has a high number of foster kids. They get a TON of kids coming and going of all sorts of ethnicity. I usually know the other kids by name, but whenever my oldest gets a new classmate he struggles to describe them to me. He is almost four and JUST barely started to notice not everyone is the same color as him. His vocabulary is limited, as is his ability to create analogies, but he'll suprise me sometimes.

"You know, Brian, BRIAN?!! He's a boy, big, but not big like me. Bigger than Angela with hair like Astroboy? You know, BRIIIIIAAANNN! Brian likes Ironman and has Spiderman shoes, and his arms are like chocolate lollipops not like strawberry lollipops like mine. But I like the chocolote lollipops better because they have the stuff on the inside. Brian pushed me today, but he said sorry. Can I have some candy?"

Meanwhile, my Grandma will whisper anytime she describes a skin color.

"Well Laree, you don't have as many (whispered, but innocuous description here) in AZ as we do here. You have to deal with all the (whisperwhisper )"

Different generations, I suppose.
 
My mother once told me a story about when she was little. It's cute in a way, but sad that the circumstances existed for it to even happen. Grandma and Grandpa drove my mother and her twin sister to Texas when they were little to visit their older brother who was in the military at the time. They went to a park. In the park there were two drinking fountains. One had a sign that said, "white water," and the other had a sign that said, "colored water." It was a hot day and a lot of people were lining up for the drinking fountain. My mother and her sister are white, but they got in the "colored" water line. When it was there turn, they stood there just running the water and staring at it. The man behind them asked why they were holding up the line. He probably got a chuckle when he heard the little white girls from up north say that they were watching the water and waiting for it to change color because they had never seen colored water before. Again, it's cute but sad.
 
I was flabbergasted when my husband's grandmother said, "Well, you know the ------ don't come out at night."

That was in response to why the elementary winter concert had to be during the day, so all the kids could be there. Gramma was complaining that then not all of the parents could get there.

My response to her: "What are they afraid of the dark?"

To which she replied: "No, they just don't go places in the evenings."

I patiently explained to her that in our area, most (not all, mind you) people of that race are of a lower socio-economic status and probably couldn't get their kids there because they were working in the evenings/nights.

She didn't say anything after that and moved to a different room. My husband asked what happened, and I told him. He said, "Good for you! She needs to picked at every now and then!" He's good for picking at her too, and I got a wink out Grampa for saying that. By the next day I was forgiven though, because I showed an interest in aprons, so all is good.
 

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