This past summer, I dropped off my son at my father’s house for his yearly visit. As we chatted about nothing in particular, my dad looked around his yard and remarked, “I’m glad your son is here to help me tidy up the yard. It’d be nice if it looked like a white person lived here.”
He chuckled, and my son joined in, laughing because his grandpa found it amusing, even though I knew he didn’t grasp the weight of those words.
I, however, did not laugh. Growing up, I was exposed to comments like this, and while they sounded innocent at seven, I recognized them for what they were as I matured. My father’s Southern upbringing and his strict Southern Baptist parents bred a mindset of superiority over anyone who didn’t fit their mold. They were subtle in their racism, but their words stung nonetheless. It took me years to find my voice and confront these ideas, and I regret that it took so long.
I never echoed my father’s views, but I didn’t speak up either. I ignored his comments about my son’s interests, thinking they weren’t worth addressing. But when I became a parent, his words began to resonate differently. I felt a fire ignite in me, a need to protect my children from this kind of hate. While I know I can’t shield them from all the bigotry in the world, I can certainly stand up against it when it comes from my family—especially from my imposing father, who believes his words carry no harm.
Except they do. They inflict pain on those targeted and also poison the minds of those who hear them, shaping the next generation’s views. We need to put an end to this toxic cycle that has plagued families for far too long, fostering fear and hatred that have caused untold suffering.
That fateful August day, I finally found my voice. “No, Dad, don’t talk like that in front of my son. Your grandson hears you.” My father, a towering figure who could easily intimidate anyone, paused. His gaze dropped to the ground, and he muttered, “I was just joking.”
“Not funny, Dad. Not even close.” Since that day, he hasn’t repeated such comments in my presence. Maybe my words made him reconsider his views, although it saddens me to think he’s in his 60s and still clings to outdated beliefs. It’s a shame because he’s missing out on the beauty of acceptance and equality.
I’m actually grateful my son witnessed this exchange because it forced me to confront my father when I might have otherwise let it slide, dismissing him as a lost cause. More importantly, my son saw me advocate for what’s right and reject my father’s justification. He witnessed me stand up not just for him but for everyone who has been hurt by such language.
It’s time to break the cycle, starting now.
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In summary, confronting my father’s outdated views was a necessary step to ensure my son grows up in a more accepting world. It’s about time we all take a stand against ignorance to create a brighter future.