Debt: “Something owed.”
Retribution: “Something given or demanded in repayment.”
Repaying a debt is normal, obligatory; retribution is not.
Retribution can be effective, it can work. If one person robs another and the robber is caught, it is reasonable that the robber be made to repay the person robbed. The robber has not just incurred a debt but rather an obligation to make amends in the form of retribution. But our criminal justice system seldom fairly applies the concept of retribution. Yes, the miscreant is caught, charged and convicted, but strangely enough, victims are seldom repaid for their loss. To the contrary, it is the system, the government, that is repaid under the assumption that the criminal has harmed all of us so all of us are supposedly repaid, rather than just the victim. Is that fair? Does that work? Are all of us repaid? In general, a resounding “No”!
The latest fad in retribution includes the similar philosophies of WOKE and C.R.T., the principle that because white people in the past discriminated against black people, all white people living today owe retribution or repayment to all black people living today. Without disagreement whites did terribly discriminate against blacks in the past. It was, and still is, an incredible evil. But is retribution fair? Will it work? Will it punish the guilty and repair the damage? Obviously not. Au contraire!
There are negatives and positives related to aging. One of the positives is the possibility for reflection, for remembering and being able to decide for oneself rather than having to rely upon another’s opinion. Such is my case with respect to segregation. I lived during its latter stages and witnessed some of its negative effects.
My parents owned a meat market and slaughter house, so at about the age of 12 I was behind our counter, wearing a folded white butcher’s apron so it wouldn’t drag in the sawdust on our concrete floor, waiting on our customers, about half of whom were black. More than half of our seven or eight employees were also black. Having been taught by my parents the Southern custom of saying “Yes, Sir” and “Yes, Ma’am” to adults, I continued that practice with all of our customers, until---. One day Mother motioned me to the back of our meat market away from everyone and quietly told me that we did not say “Yes, Sir” and “Yes. Ma’am” to “Colored” people, to which I replied, “Yes, Ma’am” and waited a week or so until I thought she was no longer watching and continued my practice. Again she pulled me to the rear and this time demonstratively said (and I remember her every word) “If you continue to say “Yes, Sir” and “Yes, Ma’am” to those Colored people I am going to tell your daddy!” Well, that got my attention, totally unaware that of course my daddy already knew of my social faux pas but was dumping on mother to be the bad guy. Although otherwise proper with our black customers, I reluctantly, and with deep reservations, stopped what was considered to be my aberrant behavior.
Seventeen years later I was 29 and home from Vietnam after surviving a year of infantry combat. I had seen five of my men die, three were white and one black, and while a fight was raging I had held a Puerto Rican boy in my arms as he died quietly calling for his mother. This is what I calmly, privately told my wonderful, loving, hard-working, Christian parents: “If we are good enough to go to a foreign country to fight and die for someone else’s freedom, then we are all good enough to enjoy that freedom in our own country.” I think my mother understood; my father understood, but he rejected what I said.
As a young adult I noticed an ambivalence my father exhibited every time a particular black man was one of our customers. Before graduation from college and entering the Army I learned he was head of the NAACP in our area. Upon return from Vietnam I visited him at his auto repair shop on the east side of town, and we had an interesting, informative conversation. When I asked him what it was going to take for blacks and whites to get along, I shall never forget his words: “Well, I think that men like both your daddy and me are just going to have to get on out of here.” Now that they are both “out of here” how are we doing? Apparently, not very well, and I think I know why.
I sympathize with our black leaders when they remind us of the indignities and dangers blacks suffered at the hands of whites during slavery and segregation, but I become angry when it is blamed on me. And I become angry when I remember the way I and the other white employees I knew were treated at one of Mississippi’s HBCUs, and because of what I heard, but have not personally witnessed, of discrimination against whites at an Indian reservation.
Here is what I have come to understand and believe about racism:
Racism has very little to do with race, but almost everything to do with how the group in power treats those who are without. This principle applies to all human categories: race, age, sex, religion, wealth,looks, education, knowledge, social or professional level, etc, ad infinitum!
Love, justice, mercy, understanding? Sure ways to resolution.
Retribution? Guaranteed destruction!
Clyde Morgan is a decorated Vietnam veteran. He lives in Crossgates in Brandon.
