Recalling a man of distinction
I met James Baldwin in a restaurant in Greenwich Village a few years before he died in 1987. For me it was like meeting the Mickey Mantle of writing. I read many of his works including, “The Fire Next Time, “Notes of a Native Son”, and “Giovanni’s Room.” He was a very angry, creative genius. Wikipedia reported that he wrote about, “yet unspoken intricacies of racial, sexual, and class distinctions in Western societies, most notably in mid-20th-century America. Baldwin’s novels and plays fictionalize fundamental personal questions and dilemmas amid complex social and psychological pressures….. while depicting some internalized obstacles to such individuals’ quests for acceptance”.
Recently, I saw the Academy award nominated documentary film, “I Am Not Your Negro.” This production originated from Mr. Baldwin’s unfinished manuscript, “Remember This House.” One of the facilitators of a post film discussion said that the work was, “searing”. His passion was again revealed in the film and made me question my own developmental perceptions of race and ethnic relations.
Early in my childhood I can remember not liking black people. It makes sense to me now because I didn’t know any black people until I played basketball at the local Boy’s Club. All I knew was that they lived in a different section of the city and they weren’t nice like us.
One of my friends called them j-------. He also called any Latino person, a Cuban. Homosexuals were called l---even if they were men. He wasn’t a mean kid. Maybe he learned some of those things at home. During my youth, I used some lousy words to describe people who seemed to be different from me.
While at the Boy’s Club I met young black boys who shared a common love – basketball. I was a terrible player but that didn’t matter. During our games, I learned more about a group of people who originally seemed so different.
Some years later, I became best friends with a black man I met while in the Navy. His name was Rudy Lewis and he was from Buffalo. He came home with me one weekend during the summer while we were on leave. We swam at my friend’s house. The next day my friend told me that his father put extra chlorine in the pool after we left.
When I moved to Long Island for grad school, I noticed that my prejudices changed dramatically. Even though I am half Italian, I found that I disliked many of the Italians there. I didn’t like the Jews either. They seemed too Italian or too Jewish and confirmed popular negative stereotypes. After a few years there, my views changed and my good friends were mostly Jewish.
When we take the time to get to know someone who seems different we usually realize that we are much more alike than we imagined.
After I graduated, I moved to Brooklyn to be closer to work at Daytop Village, Brooklyn College and the College of Staten Island. My prejudices again were influenced by a geographic change, but in a positive way. My students were from all over the world. The diversity in Brooklyn surrounds you literally. It engulfs you. You can fight against it or be part of the richness of it.
It should be obvious that we all have prejudices. It is a learned phenomenon. Our families, friends, schools, media, judicial and law enforcement systems etc. teach us directly or indirectly who are the favored groups and who are not. Prejudices are often decreased by being exposed to more groups of people and by education. When we take the time to get to know someone who seems different we usually realize that we are much more alike than we imagined.