jamesturk.net

James Turk — 2008/07/06 — politics

I've been asked how I got involved in politics and I've always had trouble coming up with a clear answer. I certainly do not come from an overly political family, I rarely remember politics being discussed in my presence save for sporadically around presidential elections. None in my family have been particularly involved, in fact the opposite seems to be more true, my political involvement has encouraged them to be slightly more active or at least outspoken.

Growing up in North Carolina, one of the few politicians that I do recall coming up among adults was that of Jesse Helms, who passed away this past weekend. Mr. Helms was a controversial symbol, to some representing a reverence for tradition and for some an icon of unrepentant bigotry. It is clear that he was masterful at exploiting superficial differences to stir up divisions in the populace for political advantage. Whether he was a racist in his heart or not (he denied being the bigot he was painted as and so often seemed to be) he was a master at using in the language of hate for political gain.

I spent the first ten years of my life in a fairly rural area of North Carolina, an area where the twin scourges of racism and poverty were well known by many. My own family wasn't particularly poor, and our neighborhood was relatively nice for the town we lived in. Like most children, I have fond memories of my early childhood, playing in the yards, riding bikes in the street always with my regular neighborhood pals. My best friend Chris and I were nearly inseparable, both of his parents worked and my mom was typically at home to take us places, give us snacks, etc. He also had an older sister and brother that we would sometimes spend time with. Chris and I were like brothers, his family getting a dog was nearly as good as mine getting a dog because our adjacent yards were treated as one and the same.

Chris' father was a hard worker often working the night shift and having to sleep during the day and his mother held a fairly important government job, his family as a result was relatively well off. Their house was one of the few two story houses in the neighborhood, one of my most persistent memories about his father is the way he spent so much time taking care of the lawn. Chris and his siblings were treated in many ways like part of our family, I can even recall being childishly jealous on at least one occasion over my mother's treatment of Chris' sister. Besides the meticulous upkeep of their lawn and fact that both parents worked, there was one difference between our families that to some made all the difference, Chris was black.

I don't remember how or when I first became aware that this was an issue. I don't know if it was the time a neighbor threatened Chris and I with a pellet gun if we came in his yard when I had played there with his kids in the past. It may have been overhearing a discussion that the reason that Chris' dad took such delicate care of his lawn was that he knew if it was even half as ragged as the yard across the street they neighbors would talk about how his family was lowering property values. It may have been a time when one of the particularly troubled kids in the neighborhood didn't want to share a pool with Chris. One thing that I found encouraging even then was how all but that one of the neighborhood kids had not yet adopted their parents attitudes, and would play freely with Chris most of the time. I saw racism as an odd hurtful thing from a previous generation.

Eventually Chris moved away and not long afterwards my family moved to a much more affluent suburban town where the poverty and racism were not on prominent display. I of course spent more time thinking about my crush on some girl in my social studies class than about any sort of racism or injustice. It wasn't for several more years that the aftermath of the 2000 election would get me to start thinking about the importance of democracy and down the path by which I would eventually discover my own political nature. When my beliefs began to crystallize I have no doubt that it was seeing how people like Jesse Helms had been a part of a tradition of legitimizing racism and using the lack of racial understanding and fears of uneducated southerners like many in my old neighborhood that helped me see the importance of having equality as the core of any set of political beliefs.

Just as I saw how my peers in the neighborhood had not yet adopted their parents prejudices and had hope that racism was a thing of a previous generation; I hope that Mr. Helms can be remembered as a relic of a past we would be well advised to leave behind.