READERS: I'm sharing a post that I made in the Black Panther Community, of which I am a member. I post this in the hopes that all who read it will consider the basis of their beliefs regarding others.....Peace to you all.


Tolerance & Momentintime,

I want to express my appreciation to you for being to attentive to the posts and concerns of others. Frankly, I am surprised that this thread has gained so little attention by the members. This could be because this group of people really are still afraid, still angry, still confused. I knew that when I posted the thread, or at least suspected it. Opening up yourself to the possible ridicule of others for who you are is an act of bravery that I absolutely admire. Regardless of what you believe.

I have read your histories and I can only think of one appropriate word: Gripping. Especially for Moment, as the terror of being in a relationship like that one would be beyond words. And you are a better woman than I, for I would pity the soul of the man that tried to take my children, my flesh and blood, my hope for the future away from me. At that moment of wild-eyed anger, I would hunt him down like the scum-sucking animal he is, and put him in a place that the world would never have to suffer his animosities again.When I am feeling that feeling, I think, Yes, this is how they felt, the people who were enslaved so (ostensibly) against the white christian principles of "Love" and "brotherhood"... but that is another story...

As for my history, I am a social liberal. You know, one of the ones that the "federalists" call a "communist".I was raised in a family of Roosevelt Democrats on my Mother's side, Conservative Fundemantalists on my Dad's. When Dad was killed, my stepfather was from a conservative family that even put the other conservatives to shame: social climbing, gold digging, bible thumping, nationalistic, protectionist, you get the idea. The great irony of my paternal family was that they were the immigrants...apparently they felt as if they were supposed to be the only immigrants, because they loathed everyone else.

Despite that, I was raised in a mixed neighborhood where the concern amongst us kids was not who was better because they were such and such a color, but whose sister could color without going out of the lines or who could run the fastest, who could climb the trees fearlessly to the top to get the best cherries. The politics at this time, in the mid-60's, all around us were ugly. The Black Panthers were bombing the buildings in the Black side of town. Discrimination was openly practiced, something I only learned about years later. Because my world was ideal, I thought the whole world was. Especially here on the west coast. Little did I know.

I couldn't deal with the oppression of the conservative views in my family. My step father was a tyrant. Every time I heard "fucking Nigger" I just cringed. It tore me down to the very core of my being. If I brought a friend home from school, she was referred to as "that little nigger girl." Out of fear, my mother never sassed back. At 13 I was outta there.

I joined a group of black girls from high school who I met when they cornered me in the bathroom ready to assault me. I told the ringleader to give it her best shot, she may be surprised. From that day on we were tight.We ran the streets for the next 2 years, stealing to survive. These were the gangs of the seventies. A mugging here and there, mostly shoplifting.Surprisingly, the group that I hung with were not drug takers as I remember. I wasn't. Occasional drink, I never saw a drug outside of weed.Not until the day I was raped.I was abducted off the street and thrown into a car, where I was driven around by two speed-freak black guys, and raped repeatedly by them in an apartment of a friend of theirs for hours. They tried to shoot me up, but I fought them. I was beaten up pretty bad, but all things considered, I made it out in pretty good shape. The one guy went out to "get the gun", and the other pulled me out through the back door to another place. When he finally passed out, I escaped. I was 14.

The guys in my gang were ready to "kill the niggers" and I don't know if they ever did. It took me many years to recover from that trauma. It took understanding of almost super-human proportions to understand that these were bad people only consequentially were they black. The trauma would have been the same regardless of "who" they were.

I went to California, where I was busted for runaway and brought back to Oregon where I went through the courts and ended up in a "boarding school". I was in high school for 2 years and graduated at the head of my class.

In college I was assaulted with everyone's ideal of a perfect world: The communists ("there's no such thing as true communism", I would argue), The young Republicans, the Democrats,the Pan-Arabists,the Zionists, you name it. I was buried under literature, caught up in student protests. I knew people from every stripe of the spectrum. I found them all to be thoroughly confused.

I knew from day 1 I would marry outside of my race, if I ever married at all. The only surprise here was that I married a Tongan (polynesian) and not a black. I have been married for 10 years with two grrrreat kids. I continue to raise them in the tradition that I was raised by my Mom. Don't stare at people that are different. Be aware of what you are doing to others at all times and how it affects them. Put yourself in their shoes. Read the intention of the heart. See through the mask. Read between the lines. Don't allow others to influence you when you know what is in your heart is correct. You know the difference between right and wrong. Defend what is right, repudiate what is wrong. They are being raised in a mixed neighborhood as was I. They all compete for the best pokemon cards. They build clubhouses together. They are white, black, hispanic and bi-racial. Us parents seem to be like-minded in that there has not been a slur amongst them that I am aware of. And I ask.

My husband was deported by the government and at this time I am raising my children by myself. The kids and I moved to his country for two years, and found out right quick what it was like to be the minority. Though the bulk of the racism was directed at the Chinese. I defended the chinese when I witnessed bad treatment, which caused some altercations between myself and the Tongans, but I am not sorry. I am not fearful of living by my ideals, regardless of the consequences.

Now that I am middle-aged I am watching the rise of fascism (as I see it) in this country. I see protections for the most vulnerable in this society being rolled back on a daily basis. I am not just talking about the people of color, but the old, the infirm, the very young. Obviously I see animosities between the races, but more so what I see is an economic war, a fascistic propaganda campaign backed up by the one thing that people are afraid to question in themselves: Religion. If you can keep people ignorant and under the threat and fear of eternal damnation, you can persuade them in the most amazing ways.

The price of freedom for us all is eternal vigilance. I could greatly expound on my views stated above, but this is not the forum for it.

I sincerely hope that more people chose to answer this thread. We NEED so badly to shed the myths about who we (and each other) are so we can get on about the business of truly healing ourselves.

There is certainly nothing wrong with racial pride... until it starts stepping on the toes of others. I really Do love all people. I have a deep love for the human spirit. We are so different. And we are so much the same.