Being White In A Nation Of Diversity

Living in the Boston area, for all of this past week, I have been barraged with the story of the Cambridge Police Sergeant and the arrest of a Harvard Professor. From the stupidly made remark by President Obama to witnessing the Cambridge politicians groveling over the lessons to be learned, sit back and let me tell you about a white man who has had to live his life through this long time of diversity. Just for the record, this white man is me.

Today, I am a 55 year old White American Male. I am married to my second wife, of 18 years and have six children. The two oldest from my previous marriage of 17 years, (yeah, my present wife finally has seniority) and four step children. All six have grown and are living their own lives. I am so proud of all of them that there are times I wipe a tear from my eyes over the memories. Our oldest, my son, served in the U. S. Army. Because of his classification and duties I can say no more. Our youngest, one of my step daughters, is also in the U.S. Army. She is on her second deployment to Iraq. I am not sure what her exact classification is but, she is a medic and is riding on the “Gun Trucks” as I write this. Now that you know about me, let us go back in time to where being White, was a racial handicap.

About twenty five years ago, I was working two jobs to support my family. During the day, I worked in a Manufacturing facility in Milford, Connecticut. I worked in a place where the majority of the employees were Hispanic with blacks and whites thrown into the pot. The company management was big on training and education, so schooling for all of us was easy to come by. Because we all spent so much time together, we became close friends. We were a very good mix. Many of the Hispanics invited me to their homes in Bridgeport Connecticut as I did them, living in Milford. As the company expanded promotions and opportunities arose. The company decided they would choose the Leadman Positions based on test scores. I had scored the highest at 98.2 after all the testing was complete. One of my friends, Hector Diaz, scored in second place at 97.8. The company did not want the overall Hispanic employment in the factory to be offended by naming a White to the position so, they promoted Hector instead. To justify the promotion the management said that Hector had the highest score. Both Hector and I, along with many others, knew this was not true. Since Hector and I were personal friends and it was only a difference of twenty five cents an hour, I really did not mind Hector received the promotion. I really did not have the time to spare to give to the responsibilities of the new position anyway since I needed to leave on time everyday to go to my second job. But Hector, along with others from the front office, thought this was unfair and protested. The company decided to promote me as well and I became a Lead Setupman. The record was set straight and I was acknowledged to have had the highest score. I was so touched by this incident and the friendships that I had made, I decided, from that day on, more so than ever, to make sure I always practiced the words of the late Dr. Martin Luther King jr. and would always judge a man by the content of his character and not by the color of his skin.

A few years later, I moved to Florida where I divorced and met my second wife. Soon after we were married, I was laid off from my employment and my second wife became so ill that she became disabled. She still is today. I found myself needing assistance so; I applied at the Health and Rehabilitative Services (HRS) Office in Brooksville, Florida to obtain this assistance until we could get back on our feet. I was the only White person applying for assistance. Everyone else was predominantly black with a scattering of other minorities. All of the Councilors were white. After I applied for assistance and was interviewed, I was lead down a back corridor where there was another councilor and a Florida Highway Patrol Trooper (also white). At that point my councilor told me I did not qualify for any benefits and I had to leave. I asked why I did not qualify. The councilor stepped back and the Trooper stepped forward stating that I would be placed under arrest if I caused any more problems. I said I was not causing any problems I just wanted to know what I needed to do to qualify. The Trooper opened the door and told me to leave or I would be placed under arrest. Without saying another word I walked out the door. When the door closed behind me, I found myself in a back alleyway with no outside door knob on the door I had just walked through. I walked around the building and as I made it to my car I saw people, Black, Hispanic and such laughing, trading their food stamps for cigarettes and having the time of their lives. Yet, I was leaving empty handed. I was the only White person there. I remembered a place on U.S 19 called Daystar. This was a place supported by local churches and businesses to help the poor. I applied there for assistance. When I left that facility, I had groceries for a week and a temporary job working at a local farm. After a few weeks, another job came along and we eventually recovered from our economic woes.


So, Mr. President and all you bleeding hearted souls, who say we need a true dialog on race, are you sure about this? If so, are you sure you are ready to hear the truth about the problems, so called, diversity has caused in my life as well a many other hard working people in this country? Whether you know it or not, it is not just about the Blacks in this country. Let us hear from all races like Latino, Hispanic, Asian, Muslim American and even Whites. Let us talk what true diversity should be all about and be prepared. You may not like what you are about to hear. A simple beer around a picnic table is not enough to quell the fire that has now been reignited. A fire that was long on its way to being extinguished, until now. Oh, by the way, if I get an invite to the table, make my beer a Sam Adams Lite.

That’s How I See It.