My Dad Talks Color With Me

Just got off the phone with my dad. We started talking politics, and he kicks it off with: “You know, I see the kids bring home this propaganda every year from elementary school. It’s always Martin Luther King stuff. I mean don’t get me wrong, he’s great and all, but so many other Americans did great things too. You know what I mean?”

I’ve never heard anyone say something so ignorant to me, so I say, “No, No, I have to disagree with you. Martin Luther King is a national hero, and an icon of the civil rights movement. It just kinda sounds like you don’t like black people.”

“See, there it is, the race card!” he said, like he’d caught me in the act of something. “Always playing the race card.”

“Well…yeah, cause what you’re saying is racist.”

“No…no it’s not. It’s just propaganda, and the school puts it out to make white people feel bad because there used to be slavery, and it reminds blacks that there used to be slaves. And I just don’t buy into it; I don’t feel bad, they weren’t my slaves.” he said, lightheartedly.

After that the conversation turned into a loud convoluted mess. How the fuck are you supposed to talk to a person like this? Guess what, he doesn’t like Obama either! I asked why but he couldn’t actually give a real reason, which means it’s about color. My dad’s a 50 year old–50/50 Hispanic, Irish–you’d think he would know a thing or two about racism. Then again, I’m white, and he hardly speaks to me, so maybe he just doesn’t like anyone.

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