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Having been raised to view racism as a form of ignorance so vile and low that it should rightly and at all costs be forever shunned, outspoken and defied, I despised prejudice long before I even knew what murder was. I remember seeing "The Great Santini" as a kid and being heartbroken by the way the cruel redneck character tormented the stuttering but soulful black character, pushing him in a final act of violence to release his hounds on the lout. It just didn't make sense. Why would someone hate another person simply because their skin was a different color? Where is the logic in that? And the old "why-don't-you-go-back-to-where-you-came-from" mentality has always failed on all fronts, given that whites invaded this continent, violently overthrowing its previous occupants, while stolen Africans were hauled along to do all the serious labor. Face it, modern African-Americans-- descended as many are from freed slaves-- have as much, if not more, right to this country than anyone (save, the Native American Indians, of course), as it was their forebearers who were harshly pressed into the cruelest forms of labor and servitude during the country's formation by Europeans devoid of simple human compassion. The only true justice is complete franchisement, and now that that's been at least theoretically granted, all we can do is continue to strive for absolute, practical equality. And it's coming. Meanwhile, have no tolerance for racism or sexism. The Specials A.K.A. had a tune "Racist Friend," that said "if you have a racist friend/ now is the time for your friendship to end." Live it. Racism is a form of willfull ignorance and self-blindness. Honest people, on the other hand, look forward to a happily mixed multi-racial humanity that can't fathom bigotry at all. I, for one, can't wait. But in the meantime, I've got to learn to watch my tongue. You see, I'm a shit-talker by trade. A professional jive-turkey. And, as I was also raised on the works of Frank Zappa, Redd Foxx, Lenny Bruce, George Clinton, William S. Burroughs and the like, I enjoy entertaining a somewhat more freewheeling view of the universe-- one in which sensitive matters such as these can be discussed rationally, comedically or poetically without the risk of offending the main characters. This, combined with the fact that I've lived in Virginia now for over two-thirds of my life, cavorting with people of vastly different genetic origins, may have caused my insensitivities to grow along with my capacity to say "y'all" and "fer." And so it was that I found myself at the end of last year putting together an introduction for a collection of CD reviews for C-VILLE, wherein I saw fit to make reference to one local artist's worthiness to "win a Grammy and make love to your mammy." (Corey Harris) It seemed harmless enough. "Mammy" means "mom," right? Well, yes and no. The artist involved immediately challenged my scholarship and requested that I never write about him again. That's serious, so I looked it up. "Mammy" is defined by Merriam-Webster as "1: MAMA and 2: a black woman serving as a nurse to white children especially formerly in the southern U.S." A mammy is a slave nanny. Okay, so the quip had gone from plain silly to relatively tasteless, but I wasn't about to grovel over what was clearly a compliment. And I never for a moment entertained excluding the artist from my work. I'd just have to tread a little lighter. And he could kiss my butt. That was my official stance. There it remained. I knew I was on uneven footing-- that I'd stuck myself in a position of having to defend an insensitive comment I personally had no great feeling about one way or the other, that I'd be viewed as a bigot by some portion of my readership and that I was eventually going to have to choose between egregious and righteous. Shit! So I didn't do anything. I stated my case on my website: if the reader can't handle it, he can kiss my shiny white hiney. And there it remained. Until I consulted my grandparents. My grandparents are Missourians. Where they live-- Lake of the Ozarks-- there are shockingly few black faces. The area is just now uncomfortably acclimating itself to the Latin Americans flocking there in droves and who Grampy describes as being "hard workers." Nana and Gramps aren't necessarily racists-- like I say, my grandfather respects a hard work ethic over all else-- but they are pretty "backwoods." And I'll bet they've their share of bigotted friends. I put the "mammy" question to my grandmother on the last night of our visit. She's in her eighties, so I figured she could provide some insight into its cultural relevance. She quickly defined it as "mom." But when I asked her if there was another meaning-- the slave nanny thing-- she confessed: "oh yeah, that's where it came from." Her shame was instantly palpable, and at last, I could see that I had gone too far. So this is-- in a roundabout way-- a measure of apology to anyone offended by my ridiculous mammy comment last December. It was a stupid joke meant as little more than oblique praise, but which I see now actually lewdly made light of the victimization of thousands and thousands of people. And that's not funny. --Cripsy Duck *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

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