Coming never to a store near you |
[Catch up on the premise of this series here.]
I know you've all been waiting with bated breath for this next installment--
And on the docket today for cringey subject matter, racism.
It probably won't shock you to know that, like misogyny, racism is a deal-breaker for me in a dating relationship. This hardly feels like ground breaking territory.
After all, how many of us look at a prospective dating partner and think, "You know what would be really awesome? If he/she were just a little bit racist every once in while, just to keep me on my toes as an ethnic minority."
No. Highly doubtful.
But despite that generally accepted reality, I dated a racist Christian guy.
This is embarrassing and shameful for me to admit. How could that even happen? I'm a college-educated, biracial feminist who studied English literature. I've read Spivak and Bhabha for crying out loud. That **** takes commitment (and roughly four cups of coffee or 20 cups of tea, depending on whether you're stateside or across the pond).
Here's my theory: we tend to work with a simplified framework of reality when it comes to other people.
So in my non-hypothetical case, I have a framework in my mind about Jack's character. I think of him as highly sensitive and extremely compassionate based on the sum of all my interactions with him (the mathematical function of our relationship).
So when Jack says something that doesn't fit within the framework--"Sensitive to other people's feelings," "Compassionate," my mind places these utterances outside of the established framework as rare exceptions.
The same holds true with racist comments. Far from pouncing on a statement with a gleeful, "Aha! I knew it! All white people harbor secret racist thoughts," my mind seeks to integrate the new information into previously held conceptions about Jack's basic character.
There's no way someone this empathetic could be racist. Right?
I must have misunderstood what he said. I think he meant something different.
But he's a Christian.
To return to the subject of this post, whether or not someone is a Christian seems to be only a very mild marker of whether or not he/she is also racist (completely debatable of course).
Observationally, however, a shared belief system like Christianity can function much like a shared disgust for the Other, whatever or whomever that Other might be.
"We're Christians so of course we think ____ is disgusting/sinful/wrong."
More observational thoughts about the intersection between being a Christian dude and being racist.:
The "Other" and Disgust
When I've heard Christian guys that I dated (or didn't) say something racist or bigoted or prejudiced, I couldn't help but register the tone of disgust.
Isn't that what racism is, in a way? Gut-level disgust about this inferior group of people? Whether they're destroying America, rioting in the streets about injustice, or brutally asserting their worth as human beings, nothing done by "people like us" ever seems to elicit an even remotely similar reaction.
Even if it's not aimed at you, you feel it like a punch in the stomach.
I want to make a quick note here about the possible connection between racist remarks and having a personality disorder. I mention this later on, but I hypothesize that there is a potential connection--and I want to point it out as a red flag: The person you are dating might not only be slightly racist, but also emotionally dangerous.
The "Other" and Forced Teaming
Gavin de Becker talks about forced teaming in his great book "The Gift of Fear." Basically, the predator uses the tone and language of "we're in this together" to establish rapport and trust with his victim. Example: a stranger points out that you're both unprepared for the rain, commiserates with you about your lack of an umbrella, and then offers to give you a ride in his car. [STRANGER DANGER]
Racist remarks can function in much the same way. A conspiratorial lowering of the voice (ooh, I'm being so daring and countercultural right now, I can't even). The message:
We're in this together.
We both feel the same way about this controversial issue.
We're superior and better than those other people.
You agree with me by default, because you're clearly not part of an inferior racial minority.
My silent response making me a co-conspirator, implicating me in the same kinds of beliefs--to challenge them would be to lose the relationship. I betrayed myself. And I hate myself for it.
I reached a turning point in dealing with this particular relationship when I realized that the racist (and sexist) remarks were far from the exception to the rule--they were beyond calculated and intentional. Far from being the isolated pinpricks in a compassionate, honest and loving relationship, they were the deliberate wounds of an abuser.
He discovered my deepest vulnerabilities. And wielded that knowledge like a weapon to hurt, manipulate and control me.
The "Other" and Political Correctness
Something odd tends to happen if you even hint to a man that he might be racist or sexist.
He begins clutching his pearls (haha), crying, "No! Not me! I would never believe such things. What kind of sick, twisted monster do you think I am?"
Because apparently, calling someone a racist is stopping just short of calling them a child molester.
Well, let me be neither the first nor the last to say:
"He doth protest too much."
Often, after letting you know that you've offended his delicate, white male sensibilities, he follows with, "Well, I'm not politically correct if that's what you mean."
I have a theory about not being politically correct:
Speaking the language of politically incorrect is a way for those without any real power to puff themselves up--like the so-called "alpha male" who is secretly insecure and terrified of his own weakness.
Why are Christian men politically incorrect?
1. They feel personally disempowered in their lives and adopt what they perceive to be the vocabulary of power (politically incorrect speech) as a posture of "I can say whatever I want whenever I want, but only around people who are like me and agree with me and only about people who are less powerful than I am and unlikely to fight back." See also, cowardice.
2. Christian dudes refrain from challenging other Christian dudes in Christian Bro-centric environments.
Being politically incorrect is putting on a brave face for the lads--what with all the oppressive powers of feminism making it impossible to be a "real man," because God knows, merely having a penis is just about enough to get you locked up these days.
Church & Patriarchy
Speaking of power, perhaps the church tends to attract men who feel disempowered in other areas of life. The church, unlike other contexts, tends to place a premium on male leadership--even more progressive churches do this. So a man who is not a leader in any other part of his life might find himself an integral part of church leadership.
Of course this is speculative, but I would observationally argue that men who attend church might feel a greater sense of being victimized and disempowered in other parts of their lives, and so seek out greater involvement at a church that values them and their contributions. They might lack power politically, socially (be socially awkward, for example), economically (unemployed or underemployed), or romantically (perceive themselves as the "nice guy" that women always reject).
Just to reiterate: We are all dented cans. Male or female. White, Black, Asian or Hispanic. However, the sense of victimization that seems to come from the gap between being apparently privileged--you're white and male! Go you!--and the reality of working at Coffee Bean, relying on your parents for gas money, and asking women out only to be repeatedly rejected--feels somewhat specific to the demographic I am writing about.
Again speculatively, in this day and age for white men, I'm not sure if racism or politically incorrect language can be entirely separated from a personal sense of victimization.
Note: Playing the victim is a common sociopathic trope.
Clearly I am not saying that all men who say racist things are sociopathic (just the guy I dated).
But, I think that this sense of victimization dulls a person's empathy to any and all who are perceived as Other. After all, if you gain part of your sense of self from being a victim of society, why the hell would you want to share that power with someone else?
And what defines a sociopath? Lack of empathy. And that's not the kind of guy that I want to date.
So to conclude an overlong post: Racism bad. Racist guy bad. Racist Christian guy--the worst.
Have a great day.
Up next in the series, men who won't take "No" for an answer, or The Myth of Persistence.
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