Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, July 6, 1995 TAG: 9507060108
SECTION: NEIGHBORS PAGE: S1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: STACY JONES STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
``It's a human dilemma for all of us because we were brought up in this society,'' said Ann Cary, a teachers aide at Patrick Henry High School.
``It'' is racism and the women quoted are members of People Uniting Against Racism, a 4-year-old group formed to get people talking about the problem.
The group meets at the Roanoke Tribune every second and fourth Thursday of the month to discuss ``attitudes, upbringing and why we feel this way,'' said Whitworth, a founding PUAR member. Though, she admitted, in the early stages of the group ``most people came to deal with other people's racism, not their own.''
Over the years, that has changed as a core group of eight individuals has developed. This has led to a freedom that allows them to make strides, falter and ask questions without recrimination. ``There are some feelings you have that are so difficult to deal with that you don't even want to admit it to yourself,'' said Tom Shannon, a sociology professor at Radford University and a member of PUAR from the beginning.
Like most in the multiracial association, Shannon conceded to past racial insensitivities. ``I used to avoid Melrose Avenue like the plague,'' he said. ``But not anymore. Now, everyone knows me as the crazy man on the bike.''
``It's hard not to be racist - even just a little bit - in this society if you are white.'' he continued.``I feel comfortable sharing my feelings with these people.''
``This group offers hope because it is not about perfection,'' Cary said. ``It's about everyday people struggling with the ordinariness of their lives.''
``It's like family,'' she explained.
It was family that brought Anita Bond to the Tribune's offices in northwest Roanoke a year ago.
Eight years ago, Bond and her husband decided to adopt. She was recovering from the deaths, in short succession, of her mother and father. She quit her job as a real estate agent and set out to get a baby.
In short order, she got two - Heather, and a few months later, Leigh - through Roanoke City Social Services. ``We were in seventh heaven,'' said Bond.
Then she was grounded.
After taking Leigh to the doctor to check out a bruise on the girl's lower back, Bond was told that it was nothing more than a common birthmark - for biracial babies.
``I think you have a biracial baby,'' said Bond recalling her doctor's words. A few months later, still not sure of the physician's diagnosis, Bond could no longer deny the truth.
``Leigh's skin had started to peel like many newborns,'' said Bond in the living room of her Vinton home. ``Under all that dead skin was the most beautiful khaki-colored baby.''
In an instant, Bond had more to worry about than bringing up a baby. She had no idea how to bring up a baby that ``society would treat as black.''
``I never thought to ask what color the baby was,'' said Bond. ``I didn't even think that it could be a black baby.''
At first she ignored the ramifications of her discovery. ``Culturally, I floated through the first five years of her life,'' confessed Bond who said she had never met a biracial person.
``When Leigh started kindergarten I realized I was raising this child in an all white environment,'' she said. Such isolation had already begun to affect Leigh.
According to Bond, whenever the family would go to the beach, Leigh often commented that she ``wanted to get white like mommy.'' The girl also refused to drink chocolate milk or eat chocolate pudding because she thought it would make her darker, Bond said.
Such extremes forced Bond to face that truth: She needed help for the sake of her daughter.
That support came in the form of PUAR. Brutal honesty was part of the package.
``She [Bond] was telling the girl fairy tales to explain why she was brown,'' explained Whitworth. ``It's like she was trying to shelter her daughter from some bad part of herself.''
Bond said she has made some gains as a mother to Leigh and as a person.
``Growing up, the only black person I was exposed to was the lady that cleaned our house,'' said Bond who acknowledged she used to stereotype blacks as being poor. Through PUAR ``I have gained an awareness of myself and how limited I was in how I was dealing with the world,'' she said.
During the process, Bond has ``found a whole new circle of friends and lost some along the way.''
``When we do socialize, it's with a mixed crowd because that's who my friends are now,'' she said matter-of-factly. ``It's great to have my children exposed to this.''
In the world of black and white, Marcus and Judy Potts cover both ends of the spectrum. Familial and societal backlash to their interracial marriage encouraged the Salem couple to get involved in PUAR, as did their Bahai faith which preaches racial harmony.
``It was shocking,'' said Judy of the racism she felt, and still feels, toward her relationship with Marcus.
``People treat me differently as a white person, and as a white person with Marcus,'' she said. ``It was a new position to have to deal with.''
More vocal than many in the group, the Pottses like to deal with things head on. They stay with PUAR for that reason. ``I need to talk about the truth,'' Judy said. ``To have people admit there is a [race] problem, that's nice.''
``The purpose of the group is not for people to come in and confess about how racist they were,'' injected Marcus. ``I want people to look inside of themselves'' and change.
That includes all members. The group is not about bashing white males or condemning all white people. The tenet of the group is that prejudice exists in all of us.
Linda Dennison is one of the newest PUAR members. The Hollins College senior came to 24th and Melrose to talk about her patience - or lack of it - with blacks who are as eager to place limits on her as some whites.
``It makes me angry at my own race,'' said Dennison during a PUAR meeting.
Dennison organizes diversity events at Hollins in hopes of bringing more people of color to the college and bringing out issues that affect those out of the mainstream.
``Some blacks probably think this is Uncle Tom activity,'' she said. ``I wish we could just get over this.''
``It angers me when my own race jumps to conclusions or says I'm trying to be white,'' Dennison said.
``Those are black folks who have bought into racism and accepted it as true,'' Marcus Potts said.
It is just another example of why PUAR is necessary, said Marcus.
Blacks and whites have to work together, he advised.
``Nothing is going to be solved if blacks are only working at it or if whites are only working at it,'' said Judy Potts.
Nor will anything be solved if communities don't start breaking down walls, said Marcus Potts.
``We wouldn't need a group if blacks and whites in Roanoke would talk to each other,'' he said. ``We really don't know each other.''
Shannon is not surprised. ``It is very easy in a racially segregated city like Roanoke to ignore the problem,''he said.
``I'm very struck by the fact that this group and one other are the only ones offered in a metro area of 250,000,'' Shannon said. ``It is disappointing that so few people think this is salient.''
by CNB