I, Racist

"I, Racist" is a short poem by Karl Jones.

I, Racist

Context: "Contemplations on systemic racism in myself"

1. I feel unhappy in the presence of angry people 2. Every black person in the Twin Cities is angry (certainly every black person I see in downtown Minneapolis, where I worked at the time) 3. I must leave the mixed-race city for an all-white small town

Commentary

Steps 1 and 2 were very clear in my mind when I left the city, summer 2019

Step 3 was not absent from my mind, but neither was it decisive in my thinking, nor (I think) decisive in my actions.

I was almost never the target of direct anger from anyone, just that generalized smolder that black men have when when white men come around.

It's the generalized anger, the anger turned against oneself and one's family, which I find painful.

A mother shouts at her six-year-old-daughter: "Hurry up or I'll break your fucking arm!"

I can't live there. It makes me die inside.

The decisive quality is the city itself — traffic, automobiles — density — too much, too big, too fast, too cruel.

Lacking love.

To be sure! Up here in Ely, red-hat MAGA culture flourishes, and occasionally I find myself smiling and gritting my teeth.

I came up here to escape strife; and I am a newcomer in a small town *where I intend to spend my life*.

If I think to confront racism up here, I will bring shit on my head to little or no good purpose.

Fiction cross-reference

• Gnomon algorithm
• Gnomon Chronicles
• I Grit My Teeth and Remember
• I, Scorpion
• Self Portrait (9 March 2021)

External links

• [ Post] @ Twitter (21 April 2021)