When he applied to the
ethnic college and then
finally got there after a
community college
detour of two years,
he realized he wasn’t
part of the clan. He didn’t
have the right last name
and he didn’t grow up
in the same circles and
so basically he was an
outsider. He graduated
from that school and
went to the sister school
across the street and
realized he was even
less a part of that com-
munity which was even
more ethnically ex-
elusive. He tried and
tried to be a part of
that group and found
that it just wasn’t
working. He thinks
it is because that
community’s ethos
is “niceness,” regard-
less of how much
they might talk of
social justice. They
just don’t want to
offend anyone and
that certainly isn’t
his moniker, and so
now, as a senior
citizen sitting among
that ethnicity, he says,
“Tough toenails, I am
what and who I am.” (It
it wasn’t toenails he said,
but he wrote that because
he wanted to be ethnically
nice). Some habits are
really hard to break
or is it a lingering
desire to be accepted?
“Oh, Lord,” he says,
“I certainly hope not.”
Poignancy … pain … to creative, energetic, daring-to-think people, that community mostly says no, to maintain its homogeneity … diversity requires humility and respect for the other … but if the other is “just like you,” then who needs humility or respect, because our very numbers, all in lockstep with one another, show just how right we are … and, you, Mr.Smartypants, with your social justice hobgoblin, and your non-Dutch name, mind your manners and keep it zipped, your mouth that is … as for the rest, well, gotta reproduce the race, you know. A whole new generation of wooden shoes to fill. But we’d rather you not mention the other genetic stuff in your blood.