Headline: ASKING
ME TO FORGO WRITING AS A BLACK MAN ISN'T REALISTIC
Reporter: By Gregory Freeman
Publication: ST.
LOUIS POST-DISPATCH
Last Printed: Thu., Apr. 27, 2000
Section: METRO, Page: B1, Edition: FIVE STAR LIFT
Letter from a
white man
"Dear
Mr. Freeman, " the letter began. "I am a big fan of your column. You
really seem to have your head screwed on right.
"I'm
with you except when you write that black stuff. We get bombarded with black
people in our culture today, and I'm bothered when you write from a black point
of view. "Let me make it clear, I'm not a racist. I'm a white guy, a baby
boomer who lives in St. Louis County. I'm often amazed how much you and I have
in common, except when you write about racial stuff."
The letter, from
Richard J., wasn't that unusual.
Over the years, I've received other letters from readers who've
said similar things: They like what I write except when I write about black
people. Some letters have been nasty. Others have been cowardly -- people say
especially venomous things when they write without including a return name or
address.
But Richard's
letter was neither nasty nor cowardly, and he didn't sound irrational.
I
called him and asked him to elaborate.
"It's
nothing personal, " Richard told me. "I generally love what you write.
And I can especially relate when you write about your son because I have two
sons of my own.
But when you write about black issues and black people and so forth,
I'm not particularly interested. I don't care for your 'angry black man' columns.
I've done nothing for anyone, black or white, to be angry with
me. But it seems like blacks are always blaming white people, me, for all of
their troubles. And that puts me on the defensive, a place I don't like to be.
I think you'd do better to stay away from those kinds of stories."
I explained to
Richard why that was unlikely. We all look at the world through the prisms of
our lives. My prism is that of a black man. For me to try to look at the world
through eyes other than those would be inauthentic at best.
Being
black is part of me. Just as it would be unreasonable to ask David Limbaugh
to write columns leaving out "that conservative stuff, " or Anna Quindlen
to write leaving out "that women stuff, " it's just as unreasonable
to ask me to write columns that aren't from the perspective of a black man.
Richard said he
was surprised how much he and I had in common, based on columns I've written
over the years. He related to my columns about my son because one of his sons
is the same age. Like me, he's not particularly neat, and related to a column
I wrote about our house being in complete disarray when my wife left town for
a few days. He related to a column I wrote last year about the death of a family
cat, because his family recently experienced the loss of a pet.
Part
of the reason for his surprise, he said, was that "you and I are so different
-- you grew up black in the city, I grew up white in the suburbs."
I
suggested to him that we aren't as different -- that most people aren't as different
-- as he might think. After you get past the veneer of pigment that we all have,
you often find that most people are remarkably similar. It's getting past that
veneer that's the hard part.
But where we are
different, I said to him, was that he hasn't gone through life with a brown
face. I told him that I suspected that his view on some issues might be quite
different had that been the case.
My
opinions are based on my experiences, and as a black man, those experiences
have sometimes been much different from his as a white man. There really aren't
two of me -- the Greg Freeman who Richard thinks has his head "screwed
on right" and the Greg Freeman who is an "angry black man." They're
both part of me.
Richard and I have much in common, but our perspectives differ because our experiences differ. Still, if we can appreciate those differences, we can learn to appreciate what each other has to offer.
COPYRIGHT © 2000, ST. LOUIS POST-DISPATCH
Daniel Schesch - Webweaver