After DanThePeoplesBlogger, his wife, my wife and I (business partners) finished our project of rehabbing an entire three flat brick building (which my wife and I decided to buy and keep), we set off to rent the two remaining apartments (we lived on the top floor).
Amongst many other people, we had an African American lady call and set up an appointment. My wife and I met with her and showed her both available floors. She liked the lower level and we indicated we would call her as soon as we made a decision, shook hands and she left.
Two minutes after she had left, our new neighbor Isabel, from across the street, came pounding on our door, "DON'T RENT TO BLACK ANTS!!! DON'T RENT TO BLACK ANTS!!" she was out of breath and seemed startled. We stared at her confused, not fully understanding what she meant.
Isabel: "Don't rent to ants, they will ruin your building, trust me, I know what I am telling you!!".
Us: "What do you mean? The ants will ruin our building?".
Isabel: "I mean don't rent to Black People, if you rent to black people, the WHITE people in the neighborhood will ruin your building! They will break all your windows, throw acid on your building, they might even burn your garage. I am not kidding, they will. DO NOT RENT TO BLACK ANTS!!! I will show you proof that I am not lying. I have lived in this neighborhood for almost thirty years, I have seen it all and I know what I am talking about!"
Isabel leaves just as quickly as she arrived. We just stood there scratching our heads.... HUH?
We decided to rent the apartment to the African American lady. She seemed to be the best candidate for the apartment.
Shortly after, I came home from work one day and found Hate-Mail in our mailbox. There was a letter which talked about not wanting Mexicans in their neighborhood, and how they were going to give us a deadline to leave.
When I read the mail, I felt furious, my heart started beating rapidly, I started sweating and my mind started racing. Who could have left such hateful mail? I closed the living room curtains and started pacing back and forth trying to figure out my next step. Should I call the cops? Should I stand in the front of my house and wait for the person who left the letter, and see if he, she or they, would have the courage to say something to my face? What do I do?
I showed the letter to my wife, and she did not seem as bent out of shape as I was. I was livid and felt like David Banner in the middle of his transformation. WHAT AM I GOING TO DO!??!?
Then I remembered Isabel.
She left the letter in my mailbox, it must of been her. I read the letter once again, and this time I noticed the dates, which I overlooked my first time reading as I keyed into specific "hate" words, the letter was sent May 1980. This was Isabel's proof. This is what she went through when she moved into the neighborhood. I also noticed the address on the envelope, it was sent to Isabel's home 28 years ago. Isabel is Mexican, but when I spoke to her, she always chose to speak English even though her English was not that great, and I responded in Spanish. I guess I can understand why she tried so hard to lose her Spanish and fit in.
The next day I met with Isabel and she told me the horror stories and everything she went through just trying to fit in and be accepted, stories I might publish (with her permission) at a later time. I tried explaining that it would be unfair for us as a minority to discriminate against another minority, African Americans. I told her that her remarks were discriminatory and told her she was treating African Americans the same way White people treated her, but she would not have it. According to her, her concern was our safety, and that it would be at risk if we brought black people into our building.
I do not see her behaviour towards African Americans acceptable, but I understand her feelings, and understand she was just trying to protect us from harm.
That was the world she lived in, a world that needed fences, with anger, fear and uncertainty. Although times have changed, this is the still the same world, I can still see the generation that hates me because of who I am or what I have done. That generation has not died, and some continue to instill their beliefs from generation to generation, it is their inheritance. Hate.
This is my world, and and that is the truth.
TTRH
I will type and post the contents of the actual letter, tomorrow or at a later time.
