A full Blown Racist

Let me preface this by saying I am a recovering racist in a way. I didn't know racism as a child and played with just about everyone if they were nice. I didn't like to play with anyone who was a bully or didn't play nice with others, but I got along and never really looked at the color of the skin. I knew there were differences, but largely ignored or accepted them, whatever was needed. But, I began to learn racism from my father, who didn't like American Indians (He had Choctaw in his heritage and married my mother, who had Cherokee blood in her, so go figure.) and he definitely did not like blacks even though, I have to admit I never saw him mistreat anyone outside the immediate family. Dad was pretty rough on all of us, but nice to those outside the house. :-/

So, I learned a bit of racism in my teen years and up, but I began to change all that as I entered college. I also became rather proud of my Cherokee and Choctaw roots and was saddened to learn that my Great-great Grandfather, a full-blooded Cherokee, was killed by a deputy sheriff because Grandfather was Indian. Killed him right in the streets of Mountainburg, AK. That was a different time, I suppose.

So, now, as one who registered as a supporter of the Cherokee Nation and is seeking to prove my bloodline, I have a neighbor with whom we have played cards a few times. I know the neighbor is a bit strong willed and have dealt with that. I know he likes his own way and tries to enforce it on others and I have overlooked that. However, while they were visiting with us, I was sharing about my trip to South Dakota and the Cheyenne River Indian Reservation. He wanted to know more about the way the people lived and it was obvious he thought Indians still lived in Tipis (teepees) and threw tomahawks around, or something like that. So, as I shared the plight of the Native American people and how impressed I was at the gentleness of the Lakota Sioux, he began to lambast the whole Indian race as a group who wouldn't work, wanted to live on welfare and were just a bunch of crazies who needed the white man to control them. Well, my Cherokee blood began to boil, but I remained calm. I tried to explain to him that the Indians did not want to live on welfare and would work if there were jobs for them -- in fact, many did work. I explained that the land here belonged to the Indian before the white man came and they did just fine. Their lives were different then, although times were tougher for everyone in earlier years. His remarks were that they were just a bunch of savages who went about warring with each other and they actually came from somewhere else to this land too. There was no changing his mind nor accepting any explanation for anything. So, I gave up and he told his wife, it was late and they needed to go. I was glad, actually, to see them go.

So, now, I don't know how to proceed. I really don't want to go anywhere socially with these neighbors any more, but my heart says I should remain friendly even though it pains me to see them so racially biased. But, we all have biases, do we not? While racism may not be my problem -- well, yes it is. You see, I am developing a real bias against white people and I have more white blood in me than anything else. Crazy.