Racism at Home

In most people's eyes, racism in America is a regional problem at worst. To most people, the face of racism is an impoverished man from North Carolina with a rifle in one hand and a can of smokeless tobacco in the other, or an old, Kentuckian woman who clutches her pearls at the sight of a minority. Many believe that American racism only occurs within the Dixie South. I would be willing to bet that around zero people were surprised when a study came out in 2013 that made the claim that the South is the more racist half of our country. While I wouldn't disagree with these people, I would say that the gap in racism is mightily overstated. While it is not as conspicuous as it is south of the Mason-Dixon line, discrimination is still present even in Pennsylvania. This is something I noticed while in high school, which I will talk about here.

I come from a quaint little town in south-eastern PA named Wernersville. I've placed a dot on a map to show exactly where I come from:

Now, I didn't live in the most backwoods part of the state, but the area wasn't exactly a liberal haven, either. The first day of hunting season was basically a holiday where I'm from. One of the defining characteristics of Berks County, however, is Reading. Reading is the main city in Berks, and it lies smack-dab in the middle of the county boundaries. What makes Reading notable is that, in 2012, it was coined the "poorest city in the nation", with 50% of its residents living under the poverty line. Also, despite the overwhelming white-ness of the surrounding area, Reading is ~56% Hispanic, with over 30% of its residents claiming Puerto Rican ancestry (Reading also became famous for its ugly christmas tree this past holiday season, but that's another story). A former coal town, Reading really lost its luster once the industry slowed down, as well as when the Monopoly-famous Reading Railroad declined in importance.

What does this have to do with racism, you may ask? First off, Reading was kind of the joke of the county. Reading kids were seen as trashy and incapable almost all of the time. Also, if there was a new student in my school district who happened to be Hispanic, most people assumed that they were fresh out of Reading. Opinions of them would differ greatly from those of other kids. Weirdly enough, I never got such a treatment when I showed up as a biracial kid from the city, but maybe that was because I acted "white". Even teachers would crack jokes about the "immigrants" from Reading, as if they were somehow separate from your average white student. 

Another catalyst of backhanded racism at my school was a child protection agency a town over named Bethany Children's Home. Bethany was a sanctuary for kids from troubled homes in Reading and across the country. This sanctuary just happened to lie within Conrad Weiser School District, so the kids who lived there went to my school. This was very controversial among many of the people in my town who didn't want their kids to go to school with "thugs" and "degenerates". 

The kids who went to Bethany were overwhelmingly black or Hispanic, and almost all of them came from bad neighborhoods in large cities. What was too hard for people in my district to understand was that black people from the city are not automatically criminals. While there were a few bad apples, like there are in any population of kids, most of the students from Bethany were extremely empathetic and humble people. They had a little bit of edge to them, but that's what happens to anyone who grows up in a dangerous environment. However, kids at Conrad Weiser did not hesitate in their discrimination. Whenever a fight occurred, everyone would automatically jump to conclusions: 

"Was it a Bethany kid?"

"Of course it was. His name was probably Daquan or something"

"Why do they even go here?"

All of this is indicative of a sort of veiled racism that my school district harbored for these Bethany students. My friend created a survey for our sociology class that dealt with topics concerning Bethany and racism, and it was so controversial that many teachers complained and he had to make a new one. The thing is, the survey was controversial because it was accusatory in nature -- it made people realize that they were racist in their beliefs. Over my time at Conrad Weiser, Bethany became a veil that allowed people to take the easy route and be racist without being open about it. 

This hidden racism is what tends to prevail among most Americans nowadays. While it is a huge social misstep to come out openly against a minority group, people still find a way to be racist by using different descriptors: thugs, welfare queens, and Bethany kids. When these terms are used, they evoke a certain image: a minority. This is something that, while decidedly true in my hometown and presumably many others, is hard for many people to accept. In my opinion, focusing on these backhanded discriminatory buzzwords is the next step in fighting racism in our country. Hopefully, within my lifetime, people will be able to accept this and fix themselves.