"The Road Not Taken"

Robert Frost penned a poem, one of my favorites, that explored the poet's decision to take one road at a fork, and not another.

Whether your life is filled with forks in the road, or not, we can all commiserate with those who have them, as they force introspection, and reflection.

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

The latter road, as described in the poem, stands out as one that's rarely taken when two competing positions collide--racism and stupidity, for example--both representing the fork in the road, becoming rivaling perspectives for how an act, a behavior, or an attitude may be viewed by those exposed to the same information and to the same set of facts.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

Although I've privately wrestled with whether a set of facts represented racism or stupidity, I've never agonized over whether I should call a set of facts racist. Whites rarely quibble as to what should be called racist and what should be called stupidity, more inclined to call racially-insensitive acts the result of stupidity than racism.

Agreeing with Frost, these whites almost never reconsider their first position, "the road not taken"--that it's stupidity rather than racism that prompted an action by their fellow whites--postponing indefinitely a more thorough examination: "I kept the first for another day!/ Yet knowing how way leads on to way,/ I doubted if I should ever come back."

Blacks, during their earthly travels, find more forks in their roads, than whites (Is this act born of racism or stupidity?), as whites are usually spared this kind of dilemma; yet, whites never tire of telling us what it is that we should believe--and, oftentimes, what they want us to believe is that "stupidity" explains their white counterparts actions or behavior, and not "racism," the most likely choice, and the most likely characterization of the facts.

When I purchased my current home, my white real-estate salesperson presented such a fork in the road. From a tract of homes, she selected the one that she felt represented our income and our taste.

I did my own research, using the real estate broker's web site as my source, copying relevant information about each home in the tract, the number of rooms, square footage, and lot size.

When I told her that I wanted to see each house in the tract before committing to the one she selected, she turned red, suspiciously eyeing the papers I held in my hand.

"What do you have there?" she asked roughly. Before I could reply, she snatched the papers from my hand, and, while rifling through them, asked, "Where did you get these?"

"From your web page," I said, struggling to stay calm, as I knew, with a little more provocation, I was going to either walk away, or find another salesperson.

Reluctantly, and with great exasperation, she walked me through each house. On one house in the tract, I made an offer. No, it wasn't on the one she had selected, but on the one I felt had a better view of the mountains.

She was livid. "The builder doesn't take offers," she said. I insisted. Her anger boiled over, mainly because, as she pointed out, she had already drawn up the paperwork for the house of her choosing, and now I was having her repeat her effort.

Finally, she relented, saying, "Now I'll have to start all over again."

The builder accepted my offer, which I knew he would, and, by accepting my offer, reduced her commission. This was not my purpose, but I wasn't distressed because of it.

When the house was making its way through escrow, unbeknownst to me, my wife had promised to invite this salesperson to dinner when the sale was finalized. When she restated her invitation, I was standing nearby.

"When we move in," my wife told the white salesperson, "I'm going to have you over for dinner."

"Okay," she said, "but I don't eat innards."

That was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back, that and a few other racially-insensitive things she had said and done during our brief relationship, splitting the road into a fork that ran as far as the eye could see.

The fork appeared abruptly: Was this a show of racism on the salesperson's part, or gross stupidity?

The article that spurred this blog entry has already made its rounds on several blogs, with some readers taking one road or the other, as to whether the act of some Georgia school teachers represented racism or stupidity.

Some of the comments came from whites, and some from blacks, which at times took an uncomfortable turn, as racism is not an easy topic for many, although most had an opinion one way or the other, all looking for travelling companions where the road forked, now that they had committed themselves to one road or the other.

The title reads, 'If eight slaves pick 56 oranges...' Georgia school under fire for racist, violent math homework [1]

Parents of elementary school students in Georgia are outraged after their children brought home math homework referencing slavery and beatings.
In an attempt to mix social studies with math, students of Beaver Ridge Elementary school in Norcross were asked to calculate such questions as how many oranges and cotton slaves could pick.

[My first thought: Was the question written with Frederick Douglass in mind?]

'I'm having to explain to my 8-year-old why slavery or slaves or beatings are in a math problem. That hurts,' Terrance Barnett expressed to WSB-TV.

Here's another example from the test:

Whether you find the following to be either "racist" or a show of "stupidity," is fine by me. That's not my argument. You're entitled to your view. My position on this, however, remains the same, as it was formed after much thought, and over many years of reflection and rumination:

Given this nation's racist history, and the fact that blacks have, more often than not, been the hapless recipients of racism, when I hear or see racially-insensitive things, my default position is that they're prompted by racism. I don't accept the burden of determining for others whether these things are racist or not, which fork in the road--racism or stupidity--would better describe, or sum up the facts. That's not my burden. That burden belongs to the other, those who did the racially-insensitive things.

Blacks shouldn't be asked to shoulder this burden, and we shouldn't accept it, if asked.

Let the burden rest with them, and not us. Let those in society who behave racially insensitive, show, prove, demonstrate that a racially-insensitive act is not racism. In the case under review here, we're talking about teachers, for god sake! People who know world history and American history, and the various legacies of race.

Would these teachers have said something similar about Jews caught in the throes of the holocaust? I don't think so. For blacks, the legacy of slavery is what the holocaust is to Jews--highly reprehensible, and highly inhumane.

I always assume that white's racially-insensitive acts, behavior, and attitudes are the result of racism, and not stupidity, refusing to ride the horn of a dilemma, taking the road I've traveled often, when faced with a fork that leads to the left and to the right.

Whites, and some blacks, mostly black conservatives, wouldn't have us call anything racist, occasionally reversing the charge, and leveling it at us for having the temerity to call a thing racist, thereby effectively putting a roadblock at one of the forks, forbidding passage, and making it unpopular to even consider taking the more damning road, where "[t]wo roads diverged in a yellow wood."

On the other hand, Blacks are urged to suspend judgment, not to call a thing racist, when another characterization may be more appropriate, like "stupidity." They're told to exercise restraint, to err on the side of caution, to ignore it, to look the other way--in short, take the high road.

Sure we can take the high road, or the road at the fork that whites would like for us to take, but we don't owe them this. We don't owe anyone anything, in matters of deciding what constitutes racism or not.

At times, I take the road rarely taken, the one with the signpost that read, "STUPIDITY," but I don't feel I'm obligated, or obliged to do so. I could, just as well, turn to the left at the fork, and take the road with the signpost that read, "RACISM."

Occasionally, the stupidity is so glaring, a neon flashing bright red, the only conclusion one can derive is that it's what it seems to be--and that unmistakably. At other times, the road sign identifying the road to the left glows equally bright, pulsating in large block letters the word, RACISM.

I know too much about life, and how it works, to hold anger or animosity towards those who are racist, or those who insist on calling racism stupidity, when all the signs are pointing in the direction of "the road not taken."

I feel an overwhelming pity for those so deluded, as they will, one day, perhaps in another lifetime, stand at the fork of the road where, at times, I stand--definitely more often than I care to say--peering down both roads "where they diverged in a wood."

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.


[1] A video accompanies this article.