My younger brothers and I were recently approached in a parking lot by a black man who asked me to sign his petition to increase minimum wage. I politely declined.“Why not?” he shot back. Understand, I am ardently opposed to raising the minimum wage. I have watched it climb to absurd heights over the past several years, forcing businesses to increase prices, lay off, and, in some cases, close. To say that I could have launched into a lengthy diatribe against increasing minimum wage would be an understatement. But I did not. I am usually a very non-confrontational person anyway, and besides, my pre-teen brothers were not interested in getting into a political debate in the scorching summer heat. So again, I politely declined, wished him luck, and turned to leave.“Racist,” he retaliated.I kept walking but felt my heart freeze. Racist? Had I really just been called a racist… because I wouldn’t sign a minimum wage petition? I did not bother—or perhaps I was too stunned—to respond. I simply walked away and drove off, incredulous.Altogether, our interaction lasted no more than half a minute. In that time, I treated my inquirer with the utmost respect and no differently than I would have anyone else. Race, to me, had nothing to do with it. It was irrelevant. It would not have mattered if a white straight male or pangender Muslim had asked me. I would have said “no.” And for the exact same reason.The bizarre event never angered or irked me in the slightest. To be honest, I was somewhat amused. But as I reflected back on it, I derived several valuable insights about race in America. 1. Americans see the world through two lenses If I may generalize, conservatives are always saying we live in a post-racist nation. Liberals say we live in a systemically racist nation. Paradoxically, both are right—based on their respective definition of “racism,” that is. According to Merriam-Webster, racism is “a belief that race is a fundamental determinant of human traits and capacities and that racial differences produce an inherent superiority of a particular race.” God will be my witness; that does not describe me. And I honestly believe it does not describe a majority of Americans, either. Of course, we are not a perfect people. Racism still does exist, but most of us are repulsed by it and more than willing to condemn it. That is how conservatives see the world, and based on the historical definition of the word, it is a reasonable viewpoint. SEE ALSO: Fitness trends turning young men into Nazis, says MSNBC But what if “racist” means someone who so much as (politely) says “no” to a black person? Well, in that case, we are a very racist nation. If my behavior in that parking lot constituted “racism,” then I’m afraid it really is a systemic problem. For months, I have argued that the left has cheapened our concept of racism by constantly redefining it. As I wrote last week, after MSNBC alleged that fitness trends are turning young men into Nazis, “the media has subtly evolved the definition of ‘extremist.’ Before you know it, there is a racist in every neighborhood (simply because “racist” means someone who works out)… [and] our nation is overrun with Nazis (again, because “Nazi” has a gentler definition than ever before).”The same applies here. The left has so watered down a serious word—one that ought to be reserved exclusively for bigoted and prejudiced behavior—as to cause it to lose almost all meaning. If you need proof of this, well… I was called a racist for not signing a minimum wage petition. The milder the word, the more “racist” we become, it seems. 2. He and I knew nothing about each other, yet I was vilified—that pretty much sums up modern politics The man who called me a racist knew nothing about me. He did not know that I come from a biracial family. He did not know that, as a Christian, I believe racism is an affront to the God who made us. For all he knew, I was a Black Lives Matter activist who simply did not feel like signing his petition. All he actually knew about me was the color of my skin… and yet, he somehow deduced that I’m a “racist.” I cannot help but draw the parallels between this hasty assumption and much of our modern political rhetoric. In politics today, we are remarkably good at slandering, besmirching, and demonizing, and we wield that “talent” against people we know next to nothing about. The unfortunate result is that we often end up believing the worst about our opponents and, in some cases, make completely inaccurate diagnoses.If my exchange in the parking lot had played out on Twitter, no one would have thought twice about it. We have become so desensitized to calling complete strangers offensive names, we hardly realize the futility of our debates. When some no-name, decent person is publicly shamed for alleged “racism” every other day, we lose appropriate shock whenever the media claims to have found an actual racist. Soon, name-calling is the norm in—and extent of—our political discourse, and it all means nothing. Conclusion If I had been called a racist ten years ago, I might have actually been hurt. Now, of course, the hackneyed insult simply rolled off my shoulder. To me, it is sad that the word does not sting anymore. It should. But, it also should be spared exclusively for genuinely evil people who believe “that racial differences produce an inherent superiority of a particular race.” If being called that awful name packs less of a punch than it used to, I blame the left for that.Jakob Fay is a staff writer for the Convention of States Project, a project of Citizens for Self-Governance.
