Andy Lopez
When it was suggested I write a column about the Andy Lopez case the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Yikes, I’m not right for that. I am not a social activist. I am not one who likes to fight the fight. And I responded by saying I know very little about the case and would not feel right addressing it. What do I know?
After that we talked of other possibilities. Then I went home but all the way I kept thinking about the Lopez shooting. I went to a Quaker college, married a Quaker girl. I have been heavily influenced by Quakers. And if you have even a passing knowledge of Quakers you know they are non-violent. They go to jail rather than war. They truly turn the other cheek. So, any issue with a gun is a difficult one for me.
I see no positive side to toy guns. And in a perfect world I would see no reason for police to carry any either. But guns are American. More and more people have them and there doesn’t seem to be any turning back on that trend. I am also a Mexican-American, so, I cannot honestly look at this Andy Lopez issue without major biases.
The one thing I do know is that these protests involve more than this one horrible incident. The protests come from a lot of pent up frustration that the Latino community feels about their situation and especially the treatment we receive from the police.
My grandparents came from Mexico. My parents were born here and took steps toward assimilation. My siblings and I were raised very American, “anglozied” and reared in a predominately White neighborhood. My father, a big proponent of education, believed that the best schools were in the White neighborhoods. I was one of a few people of color in an all White school. It wasn’t always easy.
I never experienced any racism from my peers but I did feel it often from teachers, parents, merchants, coaches and the police. It wasn’t always blatant in your face racism it was often the more subtle, often more hurtful institutional racism that White people are often unaware even exists. Like the off duty policeman who did security for the football games coming up to me and asking, “How come more of your people don’t play football?” My people? Until he said that I thought he and I were of the same people.
Or the policeman who came to our door and my very light skinned mother opened it. The policeman said, “Oh, I’m sorry I thought this is where the Mexicans lived.”
I was blessed with some natural abilities, a supportive family and the gift of understanding and perceiving most people so I had little problem dealing with the challenges of racism subtle and not so. But it is a challenge. And for those without my blessings there can be a point where it is no longer tolerable to accept abuse and then everything explodes.
I wish I could give a solution or even a path for others to walk but I can’t.
For those not of a colored skin it may be impossible to understand and that is okay. You do not have to understand. All I can suggest is don’t be too quick to judge.
Gabriel A. Fraire has been a writer more than 40 years. He is also the current Healdsburg Literary Laureate. He can be reached through his Web site at: www.gabrielfraire.com.