“I was born a poor black child.” Those words were spoken by Navin R. Johnson, a character played by Steve Martin in the 1979 movie, The Jerk. Navin opens the movie with this line as he tells his rags-to-riches-to-rags story. It’s the funniest line in the movie. When Navin turned 18 his black mama broke the news to him that he was adopted. His response was, “You mean I’m gonna stay this color?” He was a white boy adopted by a black family in Alabama. At age 18 he set off to find his purpose in the world.
In one scene he’s shown running out from his apartment to pick up the newly delivered telephone books. Picking up the book he finds his name and proclaims, “I'm somebody now! Millions of people look at this book everyday! This is the kind of spontaneous publicity - your name in print - that makes people. I'm in print! Things are going to start happening to me now.” He needed to belong.
Parts of the movie are crude and repulsive. I don’t recommend it for just anyone. But it takes a comedic and lighthearted look at racism and the need to belong. When Navin was planning his trip his dad, Navin Sr. gave him some advice, “Don’t never, ever trust Whitey.”
I too was born into a “Black” family. My maiden name is Black. When my grandmother came to visit the nursery, as the story has been often told, she asked the black nurse if she could see the “Black” baby in the nursery. The grandmotherly nurse returned with a puzzled look on her face and stated that there were only white babies in the nursery. My grandmother explained that my name was Black, but I was white. These two grandmothers had a great laugh together over the misunderstanding, and I was often affectionately referred to by grandma as her “little black baby.”
On a recent road trip to Swain’s Creek Pines my family and I started listening to “My Grandfather’s Son”, Clarence Thomas’ self-read autobiography. He talked about growing up in the south during the days of blatant racism and segregation. It was just a normal way of life.
Though we have come a long way since then, in some ways we have not moved an inch. Prejudice is alive and well. Not merely racial prejudice. It is human nature for our minds to size up just about everyone we meet before a word is spoken, or even if we never meet.
We judge people based on how they dress, what they drive, how they drive, their physical appearances, their political or religious views, and the list goes on.
Our niece and nephew adopted a little girl from China a few years ago. It didn’t take them long to learn that she is blind. She’s the happiest little girl I’ve ever met. Last month they adopted a little boy from Ghana. Hope is the only one in her immediate family of seven who doesn’t recognize her new brother as a black boy from Africa. Nor does she know that her mom and three sisters are pale skinned with blue-green eyes. And she doesn’t care.
This is how we need to view the world, through the blind eyes of a child, to really end racism.
Rhonda Tommer is a member of The Spectrum and Daily News writers group and lives in Santa Clara. She can be reached at r.tommer.writersgroup@gmail.com
