Tuesday, May 18, 2010 09:01 ET
By Cynthia Dagnal-Myron
My home state's law may be shocking to some, but not to people of color like me, who grew up haunted by prejudice.
As someone who's lived in Arizona for over 20 years now, I'm not shocked by the recent immigration law. Partly that's because I know how common profiling is here on the border. It's not controversial in these parts; it's just how it is. It's a practice as old as, well, Geronimo.
But I'm also not shocked to see the supposed resurgence of racism in America -- aimed, many feel, at Hispanics rather than African-Americans. Many people of color my age, who grew up constantly aware that they were in real danger, every single day of their lives, are difficult to shock. We've lived through so many varieties of racism that we're slightly amused anyone really fell for that "post-racial" America stuff being bandied about during the Obama campaign. That bubble burst pretty quick, huh?
Chris Rock once quipped that he saw America as that rich uncle who put you through college after he'd spent years molesting you. After I laughed myself sick, I realized: That was no joke. My relationship is exactly that. I've gotten everything from this country that I could've wished for and then some; when I travel outside of the States I am aware of how truly well off I am. But I'm scarred soul deep, too. It's hard to resist biting the hand that feeds me some days. Just to even the score some.
I grew up on Chicago's South Side -- born in the pre-civil rights movement '50s to parents who'd made the Great Migration from the South a couple of decades earlier. My first neighborhood is known for its blues joints and as the birthplace of many future civil rights luminaries and legendary entrepreneurs, from the still well-known Johnson family to my own godfather, Dr. James Scott, who built the first black hospital in the city.
remainder in full:
http://www.salon.com/life/feature/2010/05/18/arizona_immigration_personal_racism_history_open2010/index.html