Sometimes it is hard to write because

I guess I always had certain assumptions growing up about how the world worked. I thought I understood the underlying structures. The public discourse never phased me because, frankly, most of it seemed like so much hot air.
To a certain extent I still feel that way. Frankly, if you are a big Larry King fan, I have to admit...I have a hard time respecting that choice. The dude is a blowhard, a trouble stirrer, and an idiot. He is the worst kind of trouble maker...he is not trying to accomplish anything, he just wants to make trouble. Frankly, on an intellectual level, I rank him somewhere just under Geraldo and that ilk of shows. I see no redeeming social justification for any of it.
I am not sure how I got off on the Larry King rant, but back on topic...tonight I saw a very funny sign and tried to write a humorous post on it. Unfortunately, I feel I failed...and I think a lot of it has to do with my mindset.
Last night I completed Indians in Unexpected Places by Phillip Deloria. It was a well written, engaging, and informative book. Even more important, it was thought provoking. I urge everyone who reads this to read his book.
One of his points was how social structures actually create an inherent, probably unavoidable, subtle racism. Huh? Prior to reading the book, I probably would have laughed off any comment that I was racist towards Native Americans.
Far from it. I have always had a fascination with them. I have thought, as long as I can remember, that they were cool. One of my great regrets in life is that, so far as I know, there is not one drop of Native American blood in my veins.
I read with delight the stories of Cochise and Geronimo, of Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull, of Chief Joseph...in fact, they were my greatest heroes. Even knowing how the story would end, I would mentally beg Cochise not to go into that tent, Geronimo to keep fighting, Mangas Coloradas not to go to that meeting where he would be murdered...(yes, the Apaches were far and away my favorite tribe. Particularly the Chiricahuas. The Mescaleros were not far behind)
I loved Chief Joseph for his love of his people and his courage to do what he believed was right, even at great personal cost. I used to know his "Hear me, my chiefs. I am tired...." speech by heart.
I loved Cochise for his honesty, his courage, his leadership, his commitment to his rightful cause, and his ability to, while outnumbered, outwit, outfight, outmaneuver, and out-class as a human being every man sent against him.
Geronimo and his vastly outnumbered band as they crossed back and forth over the border, evading the Mexican and U.S. armies for an impossibly long time...
Yes, I rooted for Crazy Horse, Gall, Sitting Bull, and the others when Custer rode against them. I wanted vengeance for Sand Creek and the Washita, for Mangas Coloradas, for Chief Joseph.
How could someone who so admired these great men be racist towards them? I have never done anything but admire and respect them as individuals and people...I wanted to be like them...
Unexpected really was a catalyst in reevaluating. And not just how I feel about Native Americans, but also men, women, kids, blacks, asians, politicians, reporters, loggers, baseball players, musicians...see where I am going with this?
Society is structured around expectations. When we see someone, we habitually assess the markers they have on or about them. If I see a large, heavyset guy wearing a black leather, typically greasy and dirty vest with an arm band tattoo and a cute little tightly braided pony tail I instantly think "biker, probably rides a harley".
And maybe I am even correct.
It does not matter if I am or not. By peggin him and assuming certain things, I have limited my options for what positions he can occupy in my world. He might be a piano playing, ballet loving, effeminate, well-educated individual but in my world he will be nothing but a punk.
My expectations then become self-fulfilling. It takes that assessment being right only once to counteract dozens of other bikers.
Expectations and desires for what Native Americans or anyone else are to be like then are counterproductive. the very existence of those expectations precludes a wide range of possibilities when observing any given race.
Pop culture media propulgates this issue, as well, with multiple instances of using easy stereotypes to move stories. Put the "Indian war drums" on in a Western, everyone knows they will attack. Drop in a minor key and people expect a Jewish joke. Throw in a turban and expect a terrorist.
Racism is not allways open and upfront. Sometimes it is just conforming people we meet to what we expect to see.
I have more to say, but it is almost 1 in the morning...maybe now that I have at least this much off my chest I can regrow some hair.