It Was Never Okay to Say "Nigger"
A couple of contributors have referred to this post by Neetzan Zimmerman of Gawker:
County Commissioner Jim Gile, 68, of Saline County, Kansas, was in a study session with his fellow commissioners when the subject of hiring an architect to design the repairs for the county's Road and Bridge Department building came up. Gile, a first-term commissioner who started serving in January, told the county that he preferred to hire an architect over having someone 'nigger-rigging it.'
According to Chris Hunter of the Salina Journal,
His comment brought laughter from others in the room. Salinan Ray Hruska, who attends most commission meetings and study sessions, asked Gile what he said. 'Afro-Americanized,' Gile replied.
So ha-ha, Gile thought saying "nigger" in a public meeting was pretty hilarious.
Now, let's look at Gile's "excuses," offered after the fact:
(1) "... he meant to say 'jury-rigged.'" Because "jury" sounds a lot like "nigger," which sounds a lot like "Afro-American," so it was a slip of the tongue.
(2) "It was a bad choice of words." Yeah.
(3) Commission Chair Randy "Duncan said Friday that Gile's choice of words was not intended to offend anyone." So he had good intentions when he used a racial slur, then laughed about it.
(4) "Gile said he grew up around the term, but it is something he shouldn't have used." Old habits die hard.
(5) "I am not a prejudiced person. I have built Habitat homes for colored people." "Colored people": another great choice of words, a term that has been taboo for half a century. Evidently Gile forgot he knows how to say "Afro-American" -- as a "joke."
(6) "Gile said he also has a close friend whom he regards as a sister who is black." So one of his best friends is black. This is one white boy who can't be a bigot.
(7) "I don't ever do anything bad and don't know how to do anything bad. People know I am not." Well, maybe just this one time he did something bad.
As Zimmerman of Gawker & Commission Chair Duncan both point out, Gile's remark -- and his excuses -- were reminiscent of U.S. Rep. Don Young's (R-Alaska) casual remark last week about "wetbacks."
Like Gile, I am white and I grew up in the South. He and I are roughly the same age. I attended segregated public schools in a relatively poor section of the city. Racial prejudice was part of the fabric of the times. But "nigger" was never an acceptable term, and nobody I knew used it. You didn't hear it from students; you didn't hear it from teachers. You didn't read it in the newspaper; you didn't hear it on the radio. I won't say I never heard it. I did. But people who used racial slurs might as well have walked around wearing big signs that said "ignorant." Decent people -- and we're talking decent poor white people -- knew better.
There's a difference between the racial prejudice that pervaded the South (and elsewhere) and the racial animus that characterized the pushback against the civil rights movement. Whatever prejudices whites had against blacks -- and there were many -- they viewed as the nature of what was. They may have thought black people were "different" or "inferior" or should be "separated," but they took that as the "natural order of things," not as an indictment against a race of people.
What Gile was expressing was racial animus. He's Bull Connor, writ small. There are far too many like him still around. And one of the bad things they know how to do, to borrow Gile's phrase, is to lie. They are lying when they tell you they can't help these innocent little slips of the tongue because "they grew up around the term." They grew up knowing the term was taboo, that it was derogatory and that it was hurtful. They choose to use it anyway.
Where I grew up, people would call Jim Gile "white trash." I'll just refrain. Because I am a good, well-intentioned person who is not prejudiced and has a close friend who is white and I don't mean to offend anybody with my choice of words.
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Reader Comments (13)
Marie - I think I am a few years younger than you and Giles, and I grew up mostly in Washington D.C., in the 50's and 60's, which has a large black population. Back then DC was more "Southern" than now. My grade school and high schools (parochial) were totally integrated, and as kids we never hesitated to call each other names as kids do. But "nigger" was never one of them, for reasons you relate.
I have heard and used the phrase "jury (or jerry)-rigged" all my life, but never heard the phrase Giles used. Jury-rigging means making do with what you have, to effect a temporary solution when you can't do better. I suspect that the more polite phrase that Mr. Giles was implying was "half-assed," meaning you just can't do the job better, or don't want to. That reflects even worse on Mr. G.
As for the expression "colored", I can attest to its use as an unacceptable expression. I grew up in the north. My neighborhood of mostly Irish and Irish-American families bordered a playground, the opposite side of which was an all black neighborhood. The playground was a kind of meeting spot for everyone.
I distinctly recall my mother instructing me to never use the term "colored" because it would be taken as an insult. She never even brought up the term "nigger", even though as I grew older I did hear it now and then from, as Marie notes, less, er.....cultivated types. I think it was the first time in my life that I realized that there was such a thing as racism, even though I didn't know exactly what that really meant.
My mother's advice came when I was about 5 or 6 years old so this had to have been around 1960. If a lady whose family came here from Ireland understood, in the late 50s that the use of "colored" was demeaning, how is it that someone who grew up in this country--50 years later, doesn't get that?
Oh wait. I know. He's a racist asshole.
Question answered.
Re: "That's sofarm"; "That's so ghetto". My Dad gave me the book, "Black like Me" probably when I was in about sixth grade. My Mom called Brazilian nuts, "nigger toes". I took both Afro-American Lit and African Lit as electives while obtaining
a degree in English at UC.
I had a production chief from a famous reggae band tell me I was going to be his "Number one nigger" for the day. Soon after that his radio squawked; the star wanted his "tea" Now! he jumped and said "guess we're all niggers on this bus."
I'm a sixty year old man that both black and brown co-workers sometimes refer to as "White boy".
I listen to Kat Williams the comic who can't complete a sentence without the words "mother fucker" or "nigger".
Funny how a word can convey many different meanings and attitudes, huh?
I have heard "nigger rig" a bunch on construction sites as well as "That's so farm" or "That's so ghetto". All three mean a half ass job done as cheaply as possible with no regard to longevity.
To me words are like cut diamonds, each facet can be seen in a different way depending on how the light or context hits it.
The supervisor Giles just exposed himself as a dumb old redneck (I got a redneck) cracker, honkie mofo;(Did I get them all?) that doesn't realize his black sister cringes every time he opens his piehole and says something out of the eighteenth century.
I'm sure if I was to take a drive around Saline County I would spot more than one "curb jockey" proudly displayed on well-manicured lawns.
"Nigger" was a word of ignorance and fear, of power and condescension and now, from the streets, a word of pride and exclusion.
Johnson has a great quote; "Speak, so I am able see you."
I hope Saline County does the right thing and hires a Black architect to oversee the remodel at the highway building and I hope the architect scales up a white faced curb jockey in the style of Oldenberg and plants it on the front turn around.
Anyone noted Conor Freidersdorf's coverage of the Dr Gosnell trial in the Atlantic? Riveting, even tho gut churning.
I grew up in the West. There were people out there who casually used the word "nigger" in every day conversation. One of my high school classmates loved to entertain with racist jokes about "Li and Rastus." My grandmother from Wisconsin used the expression "shines like a nigger's heel." Some people also used the expression "Jew down." That manner of talking always seemed wrong to me so I never used those words. There were few African Americans in the West, which makes one wonder why the racism. In my opinion, the fact that many ex-Confederates settled out there following the Civil War had a lot to do with it. Maybe that's why Idaho is so popular with white supremacists. Although like everywhere, times are changing. Many local people resent them coming to set up their Citadels. I grew up over 60 years ago; it was a different time.
Grew up 10-11 miles south of LA. My highschool was about one-third anglo, on-third Mexican, one-third Japanese. No blacks until my senior year—then we got one. Big kid named Curtis. Near as I can remember everyone seemed to like Curtis and Curtis seemed to like everyone. Before Curtis arrived my claque of five or six included a dark complected kid with black curly hair. The rest of us called him “Nig”; after Curtis arrived we called him by his name: Nate.
As many of you know my Wisconsin home town was Germanic white bread only with a smattering of Jews. Like JJG filbert nuts were called "nigger toes." It wasn't until I started reading seriously that my world expanded and around twelve I discovered "Native Son" by Richard Wright and Mark Twain and Faulkner and Eudora Welty and the word nigger graced the pages. The only black people I ever encountered were hotel employees in Milwaukee and Chicago. When I was sixteen we spent the winter in Arizona and the high school I attended had the colors of a Bennaton(sp?) ad and it was like a breath of fresh air for me––a key moment in my development. I had been brought up in a bubble and that realization began my breaking away from all the old prejudices and racism that I had been exposed to. I love JJG's "words are like cut diamonds..."
They matter and they reveal.
@Barbarossa: 'Some people also used the expression "Jew down."
I first heard this used when I was in grade school. It seemed an odd thing to say, but since most of my classmates were of Pennsylvania German descent, their thick accent turned it into a homonym sounding 'chew down' to my innocent ears. Chewing/masticating was wearing something down. Though their bargaining insult went right over my 11-year old head, I vaguely sensed by their glee that it wasn't exactly a 'nice' thing to say. Years later, I came across it in a book and finally made the connection.
It is stunning to witness that this sort of bashing continues almost stronger and more unapologetic than before.
I guess I am the oldest among you--74 on my next birthday-- also born and raised in the MidWest (Wisconsin). I came from an upper middle class family which always had nannies and household help. My nanny during WWII was a young Japanese American woman, and we loved her. She was a university student whose parents were in a "camp" in California--although they were US citizens. As a very young child, I never "got" it that America's enemy were Gladys Schumacni's relatives. I also did not realize she was Japanese, and never associated her with the war. Nor did she speak about it. My parents were kind to her, and all seemed well. Strange that nobody ever talked about HER family. I did not understand any of this until a few years later--after the war was over and Gladys had moved on.
During that time we had a maid who was the daughter of the "mammy" who raised my mother in the South. She was a nice woman who seemed to accept her lot in life. When her mother died, my parents went to her funeral, and my mother was sad. She told me that her "mammy" had been the most loving person in her growing up years. My father--a former Missouri farmboy--was not used to having servants and nannies. He could not get over that our maid, Anna, lived on the "other side of town" and had a family of her own with whom she spent very little time. I remember one time when he drove her home and I went along. She lived (literally) next to the railroad tracks--in what I would now call a hovel. I was shocked and saddened. It was then I began to ask questions (of course, unanswered) and lost my innocence about racial privilege. And I never saw my parents the same way again. My mother's entitlement became offensive to me, as well as my father's not so hidden racism. He once told me that he was not racist because he let Anna come in the front door.
How strange it is that a child born into circumstances which already exist comes to see life in a new way in what would seem like one small episode. As some of you know, most of my family members are right wing conservatives and still see Black people as part of the "servant" class. Or should I say "slaves?" Breaks my heart. But there you have it.
I'm reposting a comment by Julie in Massachusetts which she posted elsewhere:
"I lived the first 9 years (mid-60's) of my childhood in a suburb of Sacramento, CA. When the neighborhood kids played hide-and-seek or other such games, the following rhyme was used to determine who was it.
"Eeny meeny miney mo
"Catch a nigger by the toe
"If he hollers make him pay
"Fifty dollars every day
"My mother told me to pick the very best one and you-are-not-it!"
"I didn't think anything of it at the time, and I have no idea if our parents were aware of the rhyme. We moved to central NY in 1968, and I haven't heard it since then. Which is really quite surprising since the first black family that moved into our small town in 1975 had someone burn a cross in their front yard. Since then there have been interracial marriages in the town (including within my family - what a shock that has been among some family members). Small town big hell!"
@Julie: I owe you a great debt of gratitude. For years, I have been trying to recall how I learned that "nigger" was a verboten word. I thought maybe I just sort of figured it out. Nope.
When I was about seven, I either repeated that rhyme to my mother, or I asked her what "nigger" meant. She told me it was a bad word I couldn't say and neither should my friends. She said the proper line form the rhyme was "Catch a monkey by the toe." So I put out the word. And thereafter it was "monkeys."
We used this rhyme in choosing sides for politically-correct war games like G.I.s v. Japs, G.I.s v. Jerries & the cavalry v. Indians. Egalitarians as we were, we usually switched teams about halfway through so nobody had to be the bad guys all afternoon.
Marie
I was born (1939) and raised on a small farm in West Texas in a town named Old Glory; renamed during WWI from New Brandenburg to be more patriotic. There were only two black people living in my small community then. They were the ranch hand Bill and his wife Mary (who served as the ranch owner’s cook and maid) and lived on the 10X Ranch (named because it was 10 sections @ 640 acre a section = 6,400 acres; a small spread in Texas). Our farm shared a common property line with the 10X so Bill & Mary would drive the farm tractor to our home to purchase milk, eggs and butter from my mom. My parents always welcomed them as they would any other neighbor. While Bill was called "Nigger Bill" to his face by everyone in the community, I don't recall ever hearing my folks use that appellation. I don’t think that anyone ever thought using that name was wrong. It was just what they did! But reading Huckleberry Finn at a young age, I understood and I knew.
When I was twelve or so, I asked my Dad why the “Colored” kids at Aspermont, the county seat of Stonewall County (that’s right, named for Stonewall Jackson) who lived just across the street from the Aspermont Public Schools had to ride a school bus 30 miles to the “Consolidated Colored School” in Hamlin. His response was to be quiet as that was just the way it was!
Our school hired a couple from Iowa as teachers one year. When their teen-age daughter started dating a local Hispanic (i.e., Mexican) boy, the school board did not renew their contract. We all knew why.
Working during the summer as a roughneck on an oil-drilling rig to pay my college costs, I was going to help a trucker delivering a load of drilling pipe when the driller (the shift boss) told me to stop since the truck driver was black. The driller said that the Tool Pusher (the rig boss responsible for the rig and all three shift crews) had told him to never assist a “Nigger” driver. I knew that unloading drilling pipe solo could be dangerous and if it had been a white truck drive we would be directed to assist him. So I told the driller that either he or the Tool Pusher could fire me but I was going to assist the driver. I wasn’t fired, and by the way, the Tool Pusher was my oldest brother. My brother was a racial bigot until the day he died.
While waiting to get a haircut at the barbershop that I always used at college (HSU - Abilene, TX), the barber called my name even though a black college classmate had been there first. I responded to the barber that the other guy was there before me. The barber said, “I don’t cut nigger’s hair!” I said, “Well, then you don’t cut mine either” and we both walked out of his shop. A few days later, the Dean of Students called me in to question me about the barbershop incident. The barber had complained to the college telling them that the two of us had staged the incident to embarrass him. This occurred in 1961.
After graduation from college I went into the Army and served 21 years as an officer. While I experienced many memorable racially charged incidents during that time, I will quickly share two that stand out for me. In 1971 while serving as Commander of a Cavalry Troop in Germany, I went to say goodbye, good luck and thanks to the departing Division G1 (personnel/HR) officer, Major Montgomery. Major Monty had been of great support to me and had gone above the call of duty in meeting my needs as a commander of 150 young testosterone filled cavalry troopers. He said in response to my thank you that he liked me; that in addition to being a “cocky” spur wearing Cavalry Captain, that I was an unbiased white man. I responded by asking how that he could know that I was unbiased, that I might be hiding my true feelings. Major Montgomery said “Jerry, I can tell within 10 seconds of meeting a white person if they are biased or not.” I believed him. The second incident occurred when my troop was filling in for a unit of the 2nd Armor Cavalry Regiment on the East German border. The 2nd ACR Chaplain and Sergeant Major came to visit us and determine how we were fulfilling their regimental mission and maintaining their border facilities. After visiting for the afternoon, they came to see me and asked, “What the hell is going on here”. When I inquired as to the meaning of their question, they said they had just come from the dining facility/day room where black soldiers were sitting or playing games with white and Hispanic soldiers and sergeants were doing the same thing with the younger enlisted soldiers. They said that type of intermingling did not occur in their regiment. My response was that I had purposefully integrated my troop at every level in their housing, training and field living arrangements. I believed that when my soldiers came to know each other and saw one other as individuals and not as the stereotypical “other”, they would grow to like and respect one another; and that had in fact happened.
BTW, to “jury-rig” is do an emergency fix or repair to make something operate until the correct tools, repair or equipment is obtained. “Jury-rig” was a common term of use prior to “MacGyver”. To “Nigger-rig” something is to make a cheap, ineffective or gaudy fix or repair. County Commissioner Jim Gile, 68, of Saline County, Kansas, is an “asshole” bigot who knows exactly what the term means and doesn’t care who he offends. And the others present that laughed with him are just as bad as he. We must all stand up and call out bigotry, bias and stupidity (i.e., Right Wing World type) when confronted with it. Thank you again Marie Burns for your continuing stand against so many of the wrongs in our world.
An adendum: The place where I grew up was on the southern edge of Rosecrans Ranchero, the same General Rosecrans that had a nearly life-long pissing match with U.S. Grant. Rosecrans, like all gentry, always claimed his boundaries were larger than they really were—but to be fair, the original Spanish land grants often overlapped. Anyway, on the southern border of the Rosecrans Ranchero was a slough--named on maps of the time as Nigger Slough. I was told in grammar school (mid-30s) that it was so named because the soil was dark and rich. I used to ride my bicycle there to catch crawfish and marvel at the white herons.
@James Singer. When I took biology my freshman year at the University of Wisconsin, we had to dissect crawfish -- before we could advance to mutilating rats. My classmates informed me the objects of our rusty scalpels were crayfish. I still call them crawfish.
Marie