Social akwardness mistaken for racism

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poopylungstuffing, my other post in this thread has been edited. There was no intent to belittle anyone on my part. It was only intended to illustrate a specific type of ad homenin attack that may have related to the situation.

Read this:

http://www.violentacres.com/archives/11 ... the-client

Maggie and The Client
February 20th, 2007

It’s funny how people take things on the Internet.

Yesterday I wrote a post condemning political correctness and I was immediately accosted by random accusations about my motivations behind the article. It was said that I just wanted to be shocking. I was accused of attempting to portray myself as a badass. People speculated that I might be a closet racist who embraced rudeness as a substitute to my secret desire to lynch a man. You get the idea.

The truth is I wrote that vague, meandering post yesterday because I was frustrated.

Originally, when I woke up, I intended to write a story about my old roommate, Phillip. But I was having a hard time describing Phillip. I didn’t want to use the term ‘African American’ because such an overtly PC term on a website that sported pictures of toddlers holding s**t just seemed absurd. I considered a flowery approach where I would describe Phillip’s skin as ‘dark as warm mocha’ in a pathetic attempt at pretending I was a real writer who was innovative enough to invent a subtle description, but I kept flubbing that up too. I briefly considered leaving Phillip’s race out of the story all together, but the entire story was about race relations and how weird it was that friends of mine who had never before displayed a hint of racism started casually implying that Phillip might rape me in my sleep after we moved in together, so Phillip being a black man was pertinent to the story, goddammit! I would have just broken down and called Phillip ‘black,’ but I wasn’t sure if that was still OK.

Finally, I just got discouraged with the whole situation and the silliness of it all, so I chucked the story completely. Hence, my hissyfit yesterday.

My aversion to the term ‘black’ to describe someone who is, well, black, started when I was in my early 20’s.

I was working in an office somewhere, on one of the bottom rungs of the company, when I witnessed my very first ‘problem client.’ The client was a middle-aged black woman and she was bitching up a storm to my supervisor, Maggie. The client had some very unrealistic expectations of the duties my company preformed and when she failed to get her own way, she decided to play the Race Card.

She insisted that her unrealistic request was performed regularly for our white clients (It wasn’t) and that the only reason we wouldn’t bow to her whim was because she was of African descent.

Maggie tried to reassure the woman. “Ma’am, I can assure you that no one is being discriminatory because you’re black….”

The woman, furious, spit out a response, “Oh, I’m black now? I’m black! Don’t you know the correct term is African American, you racist b***h!”

Maggie lost her temper. She whirled around and nearly ran into her office and slammed the door. The room was quiet and we briefly wondered if Maggie was coming back. She did, a few seconds later, carrying her purse.

She quickly started mocking the client’s confrontational tone, “I’m racist now! Is that it, I’m racist?”

She rummaged through her purse until she found her wallet. She flipped it open and shoved a picture in front of the client’s face.

“You see that? That’s a picture of my husband. A BLACK man. We’ve been married for 7 years, but I guess I hate him, don’t I? Because I’m racist!”

The client attempted to say something, but Maggie yanked out another picture and jammed it in front of her face.

“And that’s a picture of my 3 year old son. An interracial child. But I guess I hate him, too, because I’m a racist!”

Maggie’s voice broke and she abruptly ran back into her office. She slammed the door. This time, she didn’t come back.

A couple of people got up and attempted to pacify the client, but I’m not sure what was said. Instead, I decided to check on Maggie. I knocked on her office door and let myself in before she could tell me to go away.

She was sitting at her desk, clutching her pictures, her swollen face covered in snot and tears, with her chest hitching as she sobbed.

I said, “Maggie…no one really believes that you’re a racist.”

“You don’t understand,” she wailed, “I love my family!”

But I did understand. I understood that for Maggie, being called a racist was as big an insult to her as being called a n****r is to a black man. I understood how it was possible to wound and cut someone with truly no hate in their heart simply by implying that the hatred was there.

The worst part? It was all over the word ‘black.’ The client was offended and Maggie’s character was assassinated all over a silly little word. Black. Ever since that day, I’ve been hesitant to use that word to describe someone’s race.

But I wasn’t really thinking about Maggie and the client yesterday.

I was thinking about Phillip and how I wanted to tell his story…if I only I could figure out a way to describe him.

I have made some colossal blunders (foot in mouth) type things over the years and yet people seem to be amazingly un-offended by them. I think it's because I ask in a manner of genuine "please explain this" that I get away with it. It's not judgmental, I'm simply confused. I've had the n-word discussion, a friend helped me develop a "Spike Lee Dictionary" so that I could better understand this new (to me) slang, I've made a reference to someone's unusual name and tied it to a southern tradition, the list goes on... Yet folks generally just roll with it, like happened to the person earlier who asked about the n-word. When you are polite in your question, I think you can ask things that could be considered racist or raise a difficult issue without being seen as racist. Questioning is good; judging is bad.

As to the convenience store guy, the grocery store lady, and all those other crazy strangers we meet - they're just nuts. Any encounter with people like that is going to challenge boundaries and be bothersome. I can be rattled for a day or more, depending on how bad the encounter was. The important thing is to shrug it off. It isn't worth arguing - you've already been cast into a role and anything you say will just make it worse. I tend to stand there, shocked and amazed and wait for them to stop. They do and I hope that they are the one that looks silly. I never know for sure.

Anyone who lives in the White Nations (US/UK/EU), is white and has singnificant dealings with visible minorites is going to get hit with the Race Card at some point. For LungStuffing and other White women, any man of color you blow off is going to be taken as racism no matter what you do. Date who you choose and don't be afraid to bluntly state you're not interested.


For us as Aspergers, NTs see us as easy bait. For NTs of color, one tactic is using racism as a tool of embarassment and shame to get something they want or to hurt us. White NTs don't have this power, so I find they try the whole "OMG, you're gay!" route of social shame.

Anyway, 90% of people of color are wonderful beings and the Black people in my place of employment are a blast to be around and friendly . But some Blacks/Latinos live up to the "Ghetto" stereotype and they're often the ones who use such BS as the race card.

I have friend who likes to touch me and then accuse me of homophobia when I totally freak out.

He isn't homosexual, he is just joking around. He just can't imagine that there can be any other reason than being anti gay that would cause me to react that way. He has a lot of fun with teasing me for my “homophobia”.

Nobody’s ever used the racism card on me though, at least not as far as I can remember.

Maybe he really likes to play grabass with you.

The other day I was at Wallmart with my neighbors.

I was walking down one isle and I saw a bunch of Curve cologne.

Since I have moved to Arizona I have always noticed most the Mexican guys smelled like Curve. I like Curve. I have used it since I was 10. It has a nice smell.

I don't shop at Wallmart so I have zero idea what they sell.

So I was in Wallmart and saw the Curve.

I made the comment "So that's why the Mexicans smell like curve" in my head I have made this amazing discovery. I am simple like that.

But in every one else's eyes I am now one step closer to eviction. Yeah that's right.

People just don't understand. And it seems they refuse to understand.

I am not racist. To me Humans are all that exist. I just say things out loud without thinking, it's a side effect of my AS.

It wasn't you it was him. I think lot of black people make those false assumptions. When something bad happens to them, they assume it's because they're black. I don't blame them because they were treated like crap for so many years by white people so whenever a white person isn't real friendly with them, they assume it's because they're black.


But it's human nature. Lot of people do it. Fat people, people with disabilities, people with different races, etc.


When my uncle got pulled over in Montana because he was going ten miles over the speed limit, he said it was because he is black and my mother told me that was just his opinion.
I have a black uncle because my Dad's brother is married to him. I still consider him my uncle even if they aren't considered married in some parts of the US.

Hey! Rock. I'm from Baltimore, sort of. In that vaguely nomadic way.


I had that problem a lot when I waited tables as a teenager. (In Baltimore, by the way. . ) There was this one time, and I still feel so bad about it. . . I waited tables at Pizza hut, and besides being either somewhat AS or very AS-like, I also had a very, very sheltered upbringing in some ways. The manager said, "just think of what the server does when you go out to eat, and do that; that's your training. everybody knows that."

But I didn't know that; at sixteen I literally had never been out to eat for a full meal. I had no sense at all of what the timing was supposed to be, or any of that "obvious" stuff. . . and there was so much "obvious" stuff.

I was also trying to adapt to the loud, insanely busy, often extremely invasive environment--and then, I also had no concept of how to socially connect with the customers, smile, make small talk. . . which is a big deal, a big part of what makes someone a good server. It all felt so incredibly forced to me at the time, and required a lot of concentration that I really didn't have to spare.

So the thing, basically, to remember, is: I was really just a sh***y waitress. A really, really sh***y waitress. Probably for almost that whole first six months.

And this one night, I had a black family in this booth, and a white family sitting right across from them. I don't actually remember what kind of service I gave the white family, but I do know that for the black family, I was a little bit late with their drinks, and then, after the food came, their glasses were empty and I asked them twice if they wanted refills, but they said no. . and then, having brought them food, drink, and offered refills, I tried to do what would come next, which would be to bring them a box and their check. After awhile they flagged me down and got refills, but as they were (eventually) leaving, they stopped and spoke to the general manager of the store.

She pulled me out the back in the middle of a Friday night and told me that they felt I didn't want them there because they were black--because I had taken so long to get them their refills, and presented them with the box and check so soon. She stood there and yelled at me and told me I couldn't do that, I couldn't treat people that way, it was bad for business and it wasn't fair, and I was so completely blindsided; I had never even thought of that as a possibility, didn't know it existed. I was really just being a sh***y waitress, because at the time that was all I was able to be. I am sure that my numb and stammered appology to that family, manager standing behind me, did not come off as particularly sincere.

I have wished very badly many times since then that I were able to go back and give to them a real apology. I could say it now in a way that they would understand, that they could tell that I really meant it; and I really would mean it. It is not ok to make someone feel like that, like they don't belong and like you don't want them there, in a place where they actually have every right to be. I have been made to feel like that many times myself, and though I know in some cases it is the same thing coming back on me--a lack of skill, rather than ill intent--it is still hard to deal with.

Racism is not just someone's insecurities; it is alive and well and horribly horribly real. It is not true either that the level of closeness holding someone round the shoulders entails is universally overmuch within NT cultures; this varies very greatly from people to people.

It's not that we, the socially unaware, should be held responsible for other people's offense if we really can't handle things better; rather, that in a peaceful, understanding, pluralistic and integrated culture, it's everyone's responsibility to be as aware and as open to other people's approaches (to life, not to them) as they can be without compromising their own values.

If I were to have experienced that, in the convenience store, I would think: my personal space is my own, not to be compromised, but it would have been better to smile and back away more casually, with more friendly body language, if I could. That's the safer thing to do, as well, if someone really does mean you harm; if you can pull off the physical cues for "not afraid," you will be safer. . . and offend people less. So, that's what I would try to do next time.

if you explain about your autism to him maybe im sure he would understand if not avoid to ultimately ascend in life

DONT WORRY
any thing action can probably be turned into racism, if he didnt give you a chance to explain, or didnt seem interested in what you were saying, acting like he already made up his mind
chances are, hes being the biggot