NOT DEFINED BY RACE

Being black in a multiracial nation means something different in 2005 from what it did in the civil rights turmoil of 1960s America, says Philip Green. Aggressive and subtle shades of discrimination and stereotyping persist, between and within racial groups. Yet this writer sees positive change under way — in his own maturing views on race, and in the way people in general view racial identity and skin color. Change happens, Philip Green says, "one improved thought at a time," and he believes that the agent of real change is spiritual, the spirituality that "reveals what we are, individually, as God's children."

I grew up trying to integrate myself into two cultures, the black culture of my fellow African Americans in Boston's Dorchester neighborhood, and the predominantly white or Caucasian culture that I experienced by attending a high school in Lexington, Massachusetts, a western suburb of Boston.

There were times when other black kids in my neighborhood would pick on me for not dressing or talking a certain way. They said I wasn't "black enough." If you sounded too educated, had good grades, didn't play a sport really well, you weren't treated in a positive way. I lost some friendships because I was looked at in a certain way within the culture. It's really a mental outlook issue, and I was just beginning to learn how to define myself spiritually, and how to defend myself mentally.

Most of the kids at Lexington High School are white. When I started going to classes there, I realized I was different, but I didn't exactly feel labeled. Still, I wasn't included in various groups within the school. I didn't know if it was because of my race or just because I was one of the new kids. I wondered, though, if it was because of my skin color.

As the school years went by, I encountered various kinds of discrimination, both the verbal and the unspoken or mental kind. It's been a journey, and one I'm still on. Sometimes it's been a difficult road. But I'm grateful for the distance I've been able to come.

I didn't grow up having to face the Jim Crow laws that once forced blacks to sit in the back of buses or not use "whites only" restaurants and other facilities. I'm grateful for the example of those who stood against those injustices.

But I did grow up with some of the historical and psychological impacts of those events, which remained as prevalent attitudes—attitudes that people are still struggling to overcome. For me, the subtler forms of discrimination are the bigger challenges to progress.

Once I got to college, I started to question who I was, and whether race entirely defined me. I decided that defining myself that way would only confine and limit me. That's when I began to understand that God gives each person a unique identity in dimensions that go beyond physical appearance or racial stereotypes.

I've been tested on that issue of stereotyping at times, and one occasion occurred during college. Late one night, my girlfriend (who is now my wife) and I were driving along a major highway. The car broke down, and we left it to find help. We felt stranded, didn't know anyone in the area, and had no phone. It was a scary situation.

The first people we met immediately rejected our plea for help. The look one man gave us — and this is my perception — said there was something wrong about our relationship, because he saw a black man with a white woman.

Both she and I were praying as we looked for help, and although I don't remember the thoughts that came to me, I know we were both conscious of God's presence and felt that He had a way out for us. We finally found a phone we could use and called some friends.

I realize now, better than I did during that incident, that the one thing that could have helped me was to love more. Love helps people see through fears and stereotypes. It's the one thing that's going to purify the error—the mental attitude that would limit another individual according to a stereotype or social definition. Positive change can start with one person, and one by one a whole culture is changed as understanding spreads.

Many different kinds of people have helped me along the way, so it would be self-defeating to limit my association with others on the basis of race. I still feel a strong affinity to the African American culture, but I definitely feel that I'm part of a united and diverse community, and that in America, people are slowly but surely realizing that minority does not equate to inferiority.

With Latinos now outnumbering blacks in the US, there is a paradigm shift underway in how those termed "minority" are viewed. There are people in various black neighborhoods who no longer define being black in a confined way. Education, and being who you are as an individual, are increasingly more valued.

I've begun to understand that age, race, and any other categorization, only limit oneself or someone else. Each individual is, in the words of Science and Health, a "compound idea," a spiritual creation of the divine Mind — and on that basis we have a natural affinity with one another.

In any community there are those who don't really care about self-improvement, who are locked into a limited viewpoint, but I see some signs of gravitation away from a "ghetto mentality." As more examples of success become evident, then anyone can see that the bar is raised and it's time to progress.

The main lesson I learned from that night on the highway, and from other incidents of discrimination or stereotyping, is the importance of perseverance, of spiritual fortitude. If you act with goodwill, see everyone as unique creations of the one Divinity, and persevere with that thought, you and others will be blessed.

I often go back to words in the Gospel of John that have been a potent truth and a rock of salvation for me: "God is a Spirit" (4:24 ). This permeating force, Spirit, gives me strength and is leading me to understand divine Love's higher ways.