So how did I find racism?  I felt it.  It was the summer after I graduated college.  I had a job driving a truck and delivering juice.  It was only for the summer, before I left for Europe and it was actually kind of amusing in a physical, day-dreaming kind of way.  But it was not something I was entirely proud of and my concerns for my future were lurking in the rear of my head –what was I going to do with my life? What if I didn’t live up to the expectations of my 4-year degree? What if I was a failure?

This particular summer day, I was off of my usual delivery route, at a location next to the beach in Capitola.  I was probably somewhat perturbed (special invoices, new directions and finding places to park, etc).  It was hot, I had been working since 4:30 in the morning, I wanted to go home.

I’m standing next to my truck considering some minor job-related concern when 3 young black guys drive up in a new Mercedes.  They are clearly tourists and in their mid twenties.  And there it was, a surge of resentment in the center of my body –and the focus was their race.  It was immediately startling and I sought its source.  In that moment, the sensational trail was still warm and the reason seemed quite clear –I resented them because I felt guilt.  I felt guilt because here were three guys who were expected to fail –these were the kind of people expected to be delivering juice.  But here they were, obviously quite well off, quite successful.  I realized I really did not hate them for who they were, but rather I hated them for what I was.  Racism is insecurity, it is shame.  The dark skin is a visual reminder that there is a standard of success which I must strive to exceed –however successful they become, I am expected to be more successful.

This was a brief sensation, it passed and I was left marveling at it.  I really didn’t hate these guys and I really didn’t even hate what I was doing.  The thing I hated was the expectation that I be doing something else, something more.  I can’t say that I wish I could kill this expectation –it may be the source of all inner strife, but it is also the instigator of all success.  This expectation has been conditioned into me for my own good, the only tragedy is that these other people might become mixed up in my personal struggle and that I might confuse the symbolic social blunder of racism with my own reality.