I’ve voted Republican my whole adult life. Here’s what I still didn’t get about racism until last year.
I’m 58, own a small hardware store on the edge of Ankeny, outside Des Moines. My dad voted Republican, my granddad did too, and I’ve pulled the lever for every GOP candidate from Reagan on down. I always thought I had a pretty clear head about racism: it’s bad, it’s for mean, stupid people, and I’m not one of ‘em. I don’t call anyone names, I treat everyone the same, what more is there to talk about? That’s what I thought anyway, until Jalen started working for me last spring.
Jalen’s 19, goes to DMACC part time, wants to open his own landscaping business someday. Shows up 10 minutes early every shift, works harder than any kid I’ve hired in the last 10 years. First couple months, we got along fine, talked football, talked about mower engines, no big deal. Then one Tuesday evening he was packing up to leave, and he told me he got pulled over again on 2nd Avenue, right after leaving the store. Third time in six months.
I said, “What the hell for? You speeding?” He just shrugged, said “fits the description of a guy that stole a car out of the Walmart parking lot. Wasn’t my car, wasn’t me, they let me go after 45 minutes. But they made me stand on the side of the road in the rain the whole time.” I just stared at him. I’ve been driving since I was 16, got pulled over exactly once, for a broken tail light, cop gave me a warning and sent me on my way in 5 minutes. I never in my life had three cops stop me in six months just driving home. I said “that’s crazy, that can’t be just random.” He said “it’s just what happens, man.” That’s the first time the little quiet untruth I’d carried my whole life cracked a little.
A couple weeks later, he told me about moving his mom out of her old drafty apartment into a one-bedroom with lower crime, closer to her job at the hospital. He reserved a 10-foot truck online at the U-Haul off Interstate 35, showed up, they said they didn’t have any trucks left, no apology, nothing. His white roommate, same age, same credit, called an hour later, asked for the same size same day, they had one ready in 20 minutes. I tried to brush it off, like I’m sure a lot of guys like me do: “maybe it was just a mix up, you know how those places are understaffed lately.” And Jalen just smiled, that tight little smile people use when they don’t want to argue with the old white guy, and said “sure, maybe. Happens a lot, though.” I felt my face get hot, because I knew I was doing that thing I didn’t even realize I did: not believing him, because this kind of thing never happened to me.
Couple weeks after that, I went to the annual county GOP fundraiser out at the fairgrounds, you know the drill: $15 a plate, sloppy joes, potato salad, cheap beer, candidates give the same speech they give every year. Some state rep guy was going off about critical race theory, how all these kids are being taught that America is racist, how it’s all just a lie to get votes, how all anybody does anymore is play the race card. I usually just stand there, nod, sip my beer, make small talk about corn prices. That night, I just couldn’t nod. I stood there holding my paper plate, had a half-eaten sloppy joe dripping down the side, and all I could think about was Jalen standing on the side of the road in the rain for 45 minutes for no reason. I didn’t say anything, just made an excuse about closing up the store early, got in my truck and left. Felt weird, like I’d snuck out of a family dinner.
I always thought racism was individual. It’s a bad cop, it’s a guy in a white hood, it’s something that ended when segregation ended. I didn’t know it’s all the little stuff, every single day, that adds up to a life that’s just harder than it has to be for no good reason. I didn’t know that the same rules that let me buy my first house when I was 25, with not great credit, just don’t work the same for a Black guy with the same credit, because of stuff that happened 40 years ago before he was even born. I didn’t know that I had these stupid little thoughts in my head that I never even noticed, until that time a Black guy came in asking about a $600 chainsaw last month, and I caught myself glancing at the front door before I rang him up. I never do that with a white guy. I felt sick after, stood in the back room for five minutes just thinking about it. I’m not a bad guy, but that thought was there anyway. I didn’t know that could happen to me.
I still vote Republican. I still believe in lower taxes for small guys like me, I still believe in the Second Amendment, I still think the government messes up more than it fixes. But I didn’t know that the party I’ve voted for my whole life just pretends this stuff doesn’t exist, or even jokes about it, because it’s good for turning out the base. When I brought up Jalen’s U-Haul story at the last Republican club meeting, one guy asked me if I’d turned into a RINO woke liberal. I didn’t have a big speech. I just said “I don’t like seeing a hardworking kid get cheated, same as if it was my boy. That ain’t woke, that’s just common decency.” Didn’t convince anybody, didn’t expect to.
I still don’t know what to do with all this. My oldest boy says I should switch parties, but I don’t agree with the Democrats on half the stuff they care about either. I still go to the fundraisers, I still vote straight ticket most of the time, but I don’t nod along when guys start talking about how there’s no real racism anymore. I just keep my mouth shut most of the time, or change the subject. I still catch myself with those stupid little thoughts sometimes. I’m trying to catch ‘em faster, that’s all I can do right now. I didn’t know any of this 18 months ago. That’s the thing, right? You can think you’re a good guy, you can think you’ve got it all figured out, and you’re still just missing the whole picture, because it never happened to you. I don’t have any big answer. I’m just still learning, I guess. (Word count: 1182)
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