KKK Adjacent

The sequel to The Birth of a Nation was being cast in my college Introduction to Speech class.

Photo by Gunnar Ridderström on Unsplash

As someone whose educational journey has left much to be desired, I can unequivocally claim that now, on the back half, I relish in learning all that life has to offer. Acquiring knowledge as I go about my days has proven to be of the utmost importance to how I see the world and my place in it.

By eighteen, I was fully aware of my Blackness and my presence in white spaces. Wherever I went, I would be reminded of this. Most often I was the only, if not one of a few, Black people in any immediate space. Growing up in the suburbs of Boston in the 70s and 80s, you get used to this and learn right quick how to navigate life accordingly.

Attending college, however, did provide that much-needed exposure to a diverse environment. This I welcomed wholeheartedly. Of course, a college landscape is typically a microcosm of society, and thus you will undoubtedly encounter people with differing ideological viewpoints and perspectives.

Enter Chris.

A wolf in sheep’s white sheets

Chris occupied the seat directly across from mine in our Introduction to Speech class. He was older than most of the students I remember, perhaps in his second act. Soft-spoken and reserved, yet surprisingly willing to engage with his fellow classmates.

I’m not sure of his continuing education goals, but his day job was as a local stuntman for festivals, visiting film productions, reenactments, and the like.

Often, Chris brought in photos — before smartphones — of his various stunts and behind-the-scenes activities. My guess is he wanted to relate to his younger classmates, or maybe he simply enjoyed the novel attention one might receive from a seemingly adjacent career to that of famous people. Who knows, but this seemed to break him out of his shell, that and when he spoke with deep admiration for his friend in the KKK.

I recall wondering why this guy had a blasé attitude when speaking about such despicable people, more pointedly when referring to, as he put it, his “best friend in the Klan.” Unsettling, yes, but at eighteen I figured he was just a bit strange with perhaps a touch of naïveté.

As the semester went on, so did stories of Chris and his Klan bestie. I don’t recall many classmates being impressed by this relationship, though I do remember a few co-signing the irrelevance of Chris being associated with the hate group. Mind you, the entire class was white, and north of Boston in the early 90s you would be hard-pressed to find any social justice warriors, certainly those willing to don a badge of “ally.”

Generally, these types of distinctions were reserved for people like me (or for those who looked like me).

Massachusetts during the 90s had virtually no Klan presence; however, other domestic extremist groups, including racist skinheads and anti-LGBTQ organizations, did find a foothold here. It wouldn’t be until years later that the commonwealth saw an increase of hate group activity.

The indifference Chris seemed to have about his friend’s involvement with the Klan, specifically his views, was perplexing. It was as if he wasn’t yet at the point of endorsing such a hateful ideology but wouldn’t go so far as to reject it either. This was the scary realization that became evident whenever he spoke glowingly of his friend’s impact on him.

If his unabashed glazing wasn’t disturbing enough, him seemingly comfortable with his friend’s racist beliefs was more than enough to question his true character. Often it was difficult to maintain any sense of cordiality when faced with such blatant displays of tone-deafness, especially when observing someone’s refusal to denounce such abhorrent trash.

What I found most concerning was the heightened enthusiasm Chris exhibited whenever he discussed his friend. You could see a noticeable gleam in his eyes, as if he held a unique, self-bestowed mythical power derived solely from his connection with this individual. His devotion to this questionable relationship left little doubt that if invited to join the Klan, he would do so without hesitation.

On a few occasions, my 18-year-old brain got the best of me, so I thought by poking the white supremacy bear, I might expose the ridiculousness of Chris’ sharings. When pressed on if he had witnessed, or been privy to any horrific racist activity or violence by the Klan, this is when he would completely shut down and suddenly become ignorant about anything, his boy.

It was as if he caught himself before incriminating his comrade; that, or he had the sudden realization that what he had been championing for months was now being called into question. Honestly, watching someone with such a lack of self-awareness yet steadfast in their convictions was truly astonishing to witness.

It was surreal.

Different outfit, same ideology

My interaction with Chris was one of my first exposures to the white supremacy agenda and, more explicitly, with someone who, on the surface, was oblivious to how it affected the people it targeted — people like me.

It’s easier to not want the same rights and privileges for people when you don’t consider them people.

By the standards of not long ago, being associated with, or adjacent to, anyone who embraced an extremist ideology would have been a death knell. Today, however, especially in a divided America, these very affiliations are becoming mainstream (and encouraged).

With the rise of extremist groups such as the Oath Keepers, Proud Boys, Patriot Front, etc., and with their representation in many corners of American society, particularly in political spaces, the progress we once thought was becoming standardized is now actively being snuffed out right before our eyes.

Due to a rise in the popularity of far-right extremism in our country and an ever-evolving atmosphere of hate, sadly there has been an uptick in the recruitment of said groups.

We are at the point in this country that normalizing the oppression of our fellow citizens — to sane wash the destructive and hateful beliefs of others, is commonplace. Admittedly a bit naïve, but I am a firm believer that the ease at which people mistreat others is directly due to their inability (or refusal) to see them as human. It’s easier to not want the same rights and privileges for people when you don’t consider them people.

This I am all too familiar with, as I grew up in a diversity-free community that constantly viewed, and treated me, as the “other.” These are the life experiences many from marginalized communities have grown accustomed to.

Are we flying too close to the sun, or is the current zeitgeist just a manifestation of what has historically always been here but is only now socially accepted? Hmm.

With friends like you…

Growing up in the suburbs of Boston, I was exposed to the ugliness that is division, ostracism, bigotry, and the constant marginalization by those who saw me as subhuman — someone not worthy of respect, or in certain instances, life. This type of environment could (and does) affect a young mind, especially a young Black mind.

Underrepresented groups tend to be more attuned to the ugly underbelly of society, particularly regarding discrimination based on identity or skin color. These experiences many in the majority might not be privy to or have a true understanding of — that, or they just don’t GAF because it doesn’t affect them.

Now and again, the memory of my time in that college class with Chris and him spinning yarns about his friend in the Klan does keep my optimism in check about where we currently are in this country. 30 years ago, this felt distant, yet close. Now, reimagined hate is out in the open and celebrated by many every day. A resurgence — a callback, if you will, to a time when a segregated agenda ruled the landscape.

I don’t know where Chris is today, if he ever got his wish and became a legit member of the KKK, or even if he still associates with his “best friend.” What I do know is that as shocking as it may sound, I’m glad I met him early in my life. That experience from many years ago offered me invaluable insight into the human condition and the factors—and relationships — that shape one’s values and beliefs.

Thankfully, the entirety of my early years was not marred by racist disruption, but there were experiences that did shape how I viewed the world and those around me — for better or for worse.

I prefer my racism to be out in the open so I know how I can maneuver throughout my days, who to avoid, and how I can stay frosty and live my life with minimal upheaval.

Life is the best educator. This is what I’ve learned.

Thank you for reading!

[embed]Klan Rally Or Family Reunion Is this all I have to wear?medium.com

[embed]The One Night I Was A Klan Member Raise your hand if you remember donning a white robe and hood and congregating with some White people. Hopefully, this…medium.com