A Bad Choice Of Words
I had been doing Thursday night visitations on behalf of our Methodist church for years. It’s no typo - I’m a Methodist, and I did visits. So, I’m sure if there are any Mormons or Jehovah’s Witnesses reading this, they probably need smelling salts. That’s because Methodists doing church visits are about as common as BBQ pork restaurants in Jerusalem. .
The premise was simple. Every week, me and my partner would stop at random houses and knock on random doors. The idea was to “make new friends and meet our neighbors”. Initially, there was almost no mention of religion - just a quick, friendly meeting. After several months of visits, we would be comfortable enough to ask them to come to church with us.
And that’s how we met Andre’s family. He’s a wonderful man with a nice wife, son, and daughter. They invited us into their home the first time we knocked on their door. It made no difference that we were white and they were black. I recall our visits to be engaging, and friendly.
One particular Thursday, we stopped by their home. Upon ringing the doorbell, Andre answered and invited us in. We made our way through the foyer, into the den, and sat on the sofa, across from his man-chair. It seemed so quiet in the house. Obviously, Andre was the only one there.
Have you ever had one of those times in your life when you not only said something incredibly stupid, but the instant it comes out of your mouth you realize what you did? And then, you almost taste the leather of that Nike shoe you just put in your mouth? Well, on this particular Thursday night, sitting on that overstuffed couch, that was about to happen to me.
Among my many bad habits is one that can be especially annoying; I always try to fill in silence with something. Pauses in conversation are just uncomfortable for me. And that was the case here. When I looked around the house, and heard nothing, I immediately felt the urge to fill in the silence. So, I turned, and without thinking said, “Well, Andre - where’s the rest of your clan?”
The second it left my lips, I realized what I had said, and how wrong it was. But there was no taking it back now.
His eyes met mine. It was obvious that I said clan with a “c”, but Andre heard it with a “K.” As in KKK.
I think I even heard my brain say to my mouth, “No, no, no, no, no, you idiot! I told you to consult me first.”
Once again, I had to come up with something quick to cover my humiliation . So I said slowly, ” That probably was not the best choice of words for me to use in this household.”
I had no idea what his response was going to be, but I didn’t expect the one I got. Andre began to laugh. It was hearty,sincere, and loud. The tension was broken, and I laughed right along with him. For what seemed like several minutes, both of us continued howling nonstop. We only paused to reload our lungs with air, and then laughed it all out again. I couldn’t get my breath. Was this what asthma feels like? Finally, we stopped long enough for me to apologize. Andre shook his head, and said, “That’s all right, man. No problem.”
The incident was forgotten. Our conversation continued.
I’m sure that in another place, the response to my gaffe would not be the response I got from Andre. However, I believe he was spot on. By now, Andre knew me well enough to know that racism wasn’t in my heart. I just said the wrong word in the wrong place, which made it funny! So ,we laughed at my blunder, and moved on.
The key is that Andre knew where my heart was. That doesn’t always happen. All of us know of incidents when good people were lambasted because of one thing they said or did. In some cases it changed their lives. I’m sure the accusers would not like being judged by this standard. Maybe if all of us would view people on the sum of their actions and words rather than one screw up, things might not be like they are now. And jokes, for the most part, could just be jokes.
I’m sure Andre told all his buddies at work the next day about my faux pas. I’d like to think he was laughing as he recalled it, and hope he’s still telling it to this day. I know I am.
Why not? It’s funny. Both of us thought so.
Please like and share! Unless you’re offended. In that case, feel free to complain. I’ll say a prayer for you. After all, I’m Methodist.
One day, I went to interview Larry Langford for an article because he was opposing the contract deputies for Clay. After the county commission meeting, reporters went to his office to do questions. However, all the other reporters were asking about bringing back the trolley system after his visit to Charleston. So I was quiet, waiting until everyone else finished, since I knew my issue was of no interest to them.
ReplyDeleteBut, Langford didn't know me, so he approached me to introduce himself. I told him I am with the Clay News.
He said, "What?" I repeated.
He said he thought I said I'm with "the Klan News."
We all laughed.
And when I was 19, I attended a church that was all black except me. I was renting a house from my grandmother right after I married. It was in an older, now almost all black residences, area of town back when the residential areas were even more segregated than now. But they were still my brothers and sisters.
After a Bible study, at one of their houses, in the living room, with just about 20 people, we had a social with everyone having brought a dish.
While we were sitting, eating and conversing, a toddler started walking in the middle and making grunting noises. I said to him, "Are you trying to be a monkey?"
Believe it or not, I had no idea that it would be offensive until years later. (I was so naive and unexposed I didn't even know the racist associations of the past.) No one said anything. There was uncomfortable looks down at the food. They ignored it.
I think this shows that we need to give people the benefit of the doubt. Obviously, being the only white person in a congregation I chose to be a part of, I'm not racist. But, what I said could certainly be racist and often is with a different intent.
It's about intent. And as our society progresses, we need to grow with it, understand that even what we say with good, benign, intentions, could be offensive.
Of course, even if I didn't mean anything bad, now that I know, because of love, I would not say anything like that again.