I am no different in this than you. I sometimes like to think otherwise. Certainly, I prefer my reactions to life than those of some other people. I have a view of life and the world that I want to maintain and support in my actions and reactions. That I do so consciously and intentionally is an illusion.
Today, I reacted to a reaction that I felt exemplifies this mindless fact about ourselves; that we simply react to what the world puts in front of us. My reaction is just a reaction to someone else's reaction; the flavor is different but it's just a reaction.
There was a Facebook post about a Dana Perino (some kind of news person on TV - I generally don't watch it) who reacted to the President's 2nd statement about the Martin - Zimmerman mess.
I didn't watch the video; it would have riled me. Her reaction, as reported, was stupid and thoughtless, automatic and pointless, although I would imagine she would feel otherwise. But, then, she's paid to make such statements biased in a particular way. I'm guessing the reaction, however, is her own. I posted my reaction, as follows, on her Facebook page. My post doesn't appear as far as I can see. Coward. Here's my reaction:
A few days ago, I was in Trenton to deal with my state pension. Trenton, like many cities, has many one way streets. I find getting in and out of such cities complicated and irritating. Just going around the block is not just going around the block. I was headed in the wrong direction and lost track of how many blocks I'd traveled in which direction and needed assistance. I found myself in a black neighborhood - Oh, My. Yes, I have the same reaction: I'm in a strange city, I don't know the neighborhood, I'm alone. But, I have several black blood relatives. I have many black friends; some of them live in Trenton. So, resisting my internal reaction, I saw a man on the street ahead, about mid-30s. Yes, he was black; I was in a black neighborhood. I slowed down, lowered my window and said, "Excuse me..." His face showed surprise, a little nervous, then a slight smile. What was he thinking? I asked him for directions back to the highway I needed, which he gave me, thanked him and drove on. I yelled back to him, out the still open window, that I hoped I could remember all the turns.
Nothing bad happened. He was just a guy; a black guy. I could have a conversation with him.
You're capable of getting past whatever biases and prejudices you have on a moment by moment, situation by situation basis. What's inside you belongs to you: good and bad. You are responsible for your actions; nobody else is. You don't know what a black person feels, unless you're black. I don't know what a black person feels; I've never been black. You don't know what I feel either; I don't know what you feel. Stop assuming, or, at least, don't go with your first assumption.
If you treat me like I'm stupid; I'll react badly. If you treat me like I'm bad; you leave me no choice but to defend myself which you will undoubtedly interpret as bad. If you look at our differences as problems instead of just differences; if you think I have to conform to how and what you are; we'll have problems between us. If I were a black person and said these things to you, depending on who you are and how you view the world and life, I'm guessing you'd react differently than to me: a white female senior citizen.
You don't think you're a racist but you are.
You can approach life as an adventure or you can approach it as a mine field. Your choice, inside.
A black person on the street is just a person unless you make him different by your actions or words or he proves by his actions, not your imagination, to be anything else.
Why, BTW, are there black neighborhoods? Duh, THINK.
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