Confronting Personal Prejudice
by William “Brother” Rogers
Our President has called for a national dialogue on race. Any real conversation requires honesty. To have any credibility in a conversation on race, we must first be honest with ourselves and others. Simply put, we must confront our own personal prejudice.
For me, confronting my own prejudice has been a painful learning process. Like many white Mississippians, I grew up using the N word and not thinking twice about it. My favorite jokes as a teenager were Ole Miss-State jokes and black jokes. Everyone (or so it seemed) enjoyed hearing me tell them.
In 1982, I had my first moral awakening that something was wrong. While at a church social for high school youth, my pastor called me over to a table where he was entertaining a visiting missionary and asked me to tell some of those jokes. Eager to oblige, I started. I told what I considered “the best ones.”
But the missionary didn’t laugh. He didn’t crack a smile. Finally, he politely and mercifully stopped me. I’ll never forget that look of horror and utter amazement on his face. While not verbally rebuking me, his expression communicated much. He knew that racial jokes aren’t funny; they’re wrong. He knew that racism is sin—that is, against the laws of God.
It was a moment of great awareness for me. I certainly didn’t consider myself a racist. I had lots of black friends at school, many of whom had voted for me for various student government leadership positions. In fact, one of my favorite teachers was black, and she considered me her favorite student. I made good grades, obeyed my parents, didn’t smoke or drink, and was active in my church. How could I be a racist?
And yet, I was. In fact, I was a classic racist. Not the beer-guzzling, rebel-flag waving, stereotypical variety. I was the nice guy sitting comfortably in a church pew every Sunday without even acknowledging that one of the most egregious sins ever inflicted upon mankind –racism – even existed, much less that I was part of the problem. I lived in an insular world that didn’t recognize racism as an issue, much less a problem. Since racism didn’t appear to affect me, its presence was easy to dismiss and its effects easy to discount.
Much has happened in my life since 1982 to bring me to the point today where I am the facilitator for our community’s Race Relations Team. Interestingly, when the Race Relations Team used the total quality management method of investigation to determine the number one racial problem in our area, it concluded that too many of us are not aware of racism and its consequences.
I think racism is like the wires that bring us electricity. As we drive, we hardly notice those wires stringing alongside the road and crisscrossing the street. Our eyes are so desensitized to the presence of the wires that they appear to be invisible. However, if you intentionally notice those wires, they are ugly, yet they impact tremendously the way we live.
Likewise, racism is something we often don’t notice in our everyday lives. But if we look for it, it is there, it is ugly, and it is just as ubiquitous as those electric wires. Racism may seem invisible or easy to ignore, but it is just as powerful, explosive and dangerous as electricity. In so many ways – economically, socially and spiritually – its impact keeps us from reaching our potential individually and together as a community.
I have thought about my encounter with that missionary many times since 1982. For me, it was a “Road to Damascus” conversion experience. It was the beginning of a journey toward understanding what it really means to be an American, and more importantly, what it means to be a Christian.
William “Brother” Rogers is assistant director of the Stennis Center for Public Service and facilitator of the Race Relations Team.
Our President has called for a national dialogue on race. Any real conversation requires honesty. To have any credibility in a conversation on race, we must first be honest with ourselves and others. Simply put, we must confront our own personal prejudice.
For me, confronting my own prejudice has been a painful learning process. Like many white Mississippians, I grew up using the N word and not thinking twice about it. My favorite jokes as a teenager were Ole Miss-State jokes and black jokes. Everyone (or so it seemed) enjoyed hearing me tell them.
In 1982, I had my first moral awakening that something was wrong. While at a church social for high school youth, my pastor called me over to a table where he was entertaining a visiting missionary and asked me to tell some of those jokes. Eager to oblige, I started. I told what I considered “the best ones.”
But the missionary didn’t laugh. He didn’t crack a smile. Finally, he politely and mercifully stopped me. I’ll never forget that look of horror and utter amazement on his face. While not verbally rebuking me, his expression communicated much. He knew that racial jokes aren’t funny; they’re wrong. He knew that racism is sin—that is, against the laws of God.
It was a moment of great awareness for me. I certainly didn’t consider myself a racist. I had lots of black friends at school, many of whom had voted for me for various student government leadership positions. In fact, one of my favorite teachers was black, and she considered me her favorite student. I made good grades, obeyed my parents, didn’t smoke or drink, and was active in my church. How could I be a racist?
And yet, I was. In fact, I was a classic racist. Not the beer-guzzling, rebel-flag waving, stereotypical variety. I was the nice guy sitting comfortably in a church pew every Sunday without even acknowledging that one of the most egregious sins ever inflicted upon mankind –racism – even existed, much less that I was part of the problem. I lived in an insular world that didn’t recognize racism as an issue, much less a problem. Since racism didn’t appear to affect me, its presence was easy to dismiss and its effects easy to discount.
Much has happened in my life since 1982 to bring me to the point today where I am the facilitator for our community’s Race Relations Team. Interestingly, when the Race Relations Team used the total quality management method of investigation to determine the number one racial problem in our area, it concluded that too many of us are not aware of racism and its consequences.
I think racism is like the wires that bring us electricity. As we drive, we hardly notice those wires stringing alongside the road and crisscrossing the street. Our eyes are so desensitized to the presence of the wires that they appear to be invisible. However, if you intentionally notice those wires, they are ugly, yet they impact tremendously the way we live.
Likewise, racism is something we often don’t notice in our everyday lives. But if we look for it, it is there, it is ugly, and it is just as ubiquitous as those electric wires. Racism may seem invisible or easy to ignore, but it is just as powerful, explosive and dangerous as electricity. In so many ways – economically, socially and spiritually – its impact keeps us from reaching our potential individually and together as a community.
I have thought about my encounter with that missionary many times since 1982. For me, it was a “Road to Damascus” conversion experience. It was the beginning of a journey toward understanding what it really means to be an American, and more importantly, what it means to be a Christian.
William “Brother” Rogers is assistant director of the Stennis Center for Public Service and facilitator of the Race Relations Team.