The Battle of N-Word vs. Cracker

One of my favorite drunken revelations came when the oh-so-touchy topic of the N-word came up. I grew up in a place called Land O’Lakes (literally named after the butter) where there was an equal population ratio between cows and people. So I have been listening to the N-word vs. Cracker debate since I learned what the two words meant. I’ve always wondered how someone could possibly defend using a word with such hate behind it. Then, 4 years and 3 beers later, it randomly hit me, and the reasoning is incredibly ironic.

Let’s face it, you mostly hear this argument from Southerners who happen to not be considered the smartest people in the world, so it peaked my interest that they were arguing for the literal definitions of the words (especially when many sound like they have never opened a dictionary.) Some people approach the N-word and cracker without applying any social context to it. They are both racial slurs, so they are therefore equal in offense.

To be fair, we have all become rather desensitized to the N-word, making it a more regular part of our vocabulary through mainstream movies and music and such. This piece is not referring to the random white kids mimicking the media and calling each other the N-word, instead of just sticking with bro; I’m referring to when it is used in a white power sense. Believe it or not, there is a difference.

No matter how much anyone wants to pretend these two words are the same, they are not. I was never warned as a child that people would inevitably call me a nasty word that encompassed what they thought of me because I was born white. I have never walked past a group of black people who hissed cracker as I went by, knowing there was nothing I could do about it. No cop has ever ended up calling me a stupid cracker after he/she stopped me. Fuck, the fact that I am only comfortable typing the N-word, while I freely use the word cracker, proves my point. There is something inherently evil about the N-word to our society, and we try to avoid it in adult conversations.

At the end of the day, it is just a word. Six letters that formed random sounds we connected to different things at different points in time. The word is only given meaning by the way society defines it, but American society defined it back when we agreed to be a part of the slave trade.

When someone says the N-word, this is what I hear:

“I believe black people are inferior to me in every way, all because of their skin.  I believe they are dumber, weaker, and are only fit to clean my toilet. I don’t see them as human or individuals.”

Whether or not that is what you believe, that is what I hear. I cannot say I speak for everyone, obviously, but I feel like those who don’t like the word have similar reactions. I only wrote this rant as an observation. I don’t actually think this will change they way anyone speaks, but I thought I’d throw this thought out into the universe. Sometimes, we just expect people to consider something wrong, but that’s not how the world works.

A person is free to call anyone anything, but if you are going to use the N-word, then you have to accept that many people will not be okay with it. There is no convincing the entire African American population (or anyone who is against the word) that when you say it in a certain context you are not being racist. Use your First Amendment Right, dammit! You just have to take the risk of being labeled an asshole.

“Alcohol may be man's worst enemy, but the bible says love your enemy.”

― Frank Sinatra

Problems of A Whore

I will never understand why Florida bars enjoy playing such a bipolar music selection, but when Ed Sheeran's "The A Team" began playing in the blues/jazz bar where I was a few greyhounds deep, I just rolled with it. While sipping my drink, I began to feel like he was singing about my life. I questioned why I felt such a connection with this song? It’s about a drug-addicted hooker afterall, why do I feel like it is about me?

In one of my drunken revelations, I came to a conclusion: we all feel like prostitutes. We all sell our time and health for paper. So why do so many of us feel above the problems of a whore?

Do whores not only want to fund what makes them happy? The excuses vary on why they sell their bodies, but happiness and feeling complete are always the end goal.

We listen too much to details. We all sing the same sad, song and seem to forget it. All of us are fighting for what completes us in the craziness of life. The simplest truths are forgotten among arguments and facts, even when they are valid. This is why companies have tech and customer service departments; some people can’t interpret human emotion rationally because it is not rational.

The most tragic moments of our lives (external or internal) bring us all to an infant state. I feel like at one point or another, every human being in the world has ended up in the fetal position (or wanted to). In this weak moment, people should feel the most connected and not alienated. Americans (I say Americans out of personal experience blah, blah, blah) have condemned, I believe, the most beautiful human connection we can all make: sadness. Unless it is in the name of the country, depression is something to be embarrassed about, but why?

I like to pretend my problems are pointless in the first world in which I live. How could I possibly be sad when my problems pale to anyone in an AIDs-ridden, famished, tyrant-run country?

But I am going to save you a few thousand on a therapist and tell you what to remember when comparing your problems to the world: you will always lose.

Were you raped? Women in India formed a renegade patrol group to protect against daily sexual assault in full daylight on pubic transportation. Had a family member murdered? Someone out there had a foreign government bomb their rural, potato farm and will never see any kind of justice all while they die of starvation. You only have enough money to keep the lights on and feed your kids once a day? Someone has no access to electricity and feeds their kid once a week. Shall I go on…?

We divide among race, religion, and sex. In the medieval world, these divides were semi-valid (I say that with a bitter taste) because it took years to cross a continent. The separation created huge cultural divides, though, the genocidal tendencies of this thinking kind of deflate that argument. That shit doesn’t fly in the age of the technology.

We have used the “tradition” argument for too long. This year, the Census Bureau concluded that whites will no longer be the majority by 2043. (I’m still trying to figure out how 49% isn’t the majority, but I won’t get into it now). What excuse will we use in the name of “tradition” when we are all the same color? Which religions will be persecuted when old school propaganda doesn’t work in the 21^st century? How could society tell women to get back in the kitchen when they are becoming an important part of business and politics?

So, how does a song about a drug-addicted hooker connect to a middle-class white girl who has only ever walked through the hood? Because we all suffer. Maybe we have a snobbish quality about ourselves; as long as society deems it “wrong,” we can judge another person to feel better about ourselves.

Call this a self-absorbed-masturbation-hippie piece, but we have the answers, and they are simple. I feel like we decided that these ideas will never work and chose to never try. The simple truth is we all want to belong in a society we to which we contribute to, but when a person steps/trips/falls outside of the boundaries of that society, they become an outcast.

Don’t mistake this piece as me saying I believe the world will ever reach a kumbaya state. We will always find a reason to hate each other; it is in our nature, but we all at least deserve a chance to explain our situation. It seems we stopped asking if people need help and instead condemn them for it, even though we ourselves are internally screaming for it. We all make the human connection in times of national tragedy or celebration, but individually we damn ourselves to silently mourn our lives.

We’re all connected, whether we want to be or not. There is no escaping the best and worst of humanity when we choose to live in a civilized society. So, if we are going to be forced to depend on each other, why can’t we love each other to our shortfalls? When your neighbor suffers, so do you. We are all human, we all suffer, we all love.