The Colors of America: guest blog by Blair Roddan

You are probably thinking that you're about to read something patriotic, or what the significance of the colors red, white and blue might be. Keep reading and you will see that you are dead wrong.

I'm writing here about people of color, and some of the names they are known by in America.

I begin with the Italians who came over on a boat and landed at Ellis Island. White people called them, both derogatory, either W.O.P. or Dago. All W.O.P. means is, "Without Papers." This could appply to any nationality that immigrated to America. The name Dago derived from the fact that Italians were paid on a how-the-day goes basis, and not on a salary or a fixed wage. I didn't learn this until late in my high school years, from a dear friend of mine who was a daughter of Italian immigrants. If you really know where the terms W.O.P. and Dago come from, they're really not all that bad. I'm sure that there were Italians who took these terms as fighting words; others probably considered the source and looked at the Americans who used such terminology as ignorant, stupid or a combination of each.

Next up, the Asian countries. When I was growing up we called Asians, Oriental. That seemed appropriate. When a white person wanted to 'look' Oriental he or she would pull on the side of their eyes to give that effect. We didn't know if they were Chinese, Japanese, or Filipino for that matter; as kids, we really didn't care. As we got older we began to differentiate between them, based on their last name: one syllable last names meant they were either Chinese or Korean; multi-syllabic last names usually indicated that their roots were Japanese. We often stereotyped them by their occupation--Japanese were gardeners etc. We were kids, none of this, at least in my case, was meant to be hurtful to their culture; I was and still am interested and delighted by their culture(s).

Now, should I call an American Indian an American Indian or a Native American? I've often asked that of a person if I believe them to be a Native American. Their answer is usually "yes" to Native American--often they wonder how I knew-- and then we talk about their tribe. I have a very good friend who is Native American. I can talk to him about his heritage. He doesn't get offended. He likes to explain to me the history of why they are called certain names. He enlightended me, for instance, on the term Red Skins. This is not a happy story. It seems that in the early to middle  1800s the white man was paid by the US government to go out and kill the Indian. They'd often beat and/or stab the Indian until he or she was a bloody pulp, literally a 'red skin', then bring the body back, to be paid for each dead, red, body.

I now direct this submission to the area of the African American, and the many terminologies employed to identify African Americans during my lifetime. The terms have changed drastically. I remember my grandmother, born and raised in the midwestern and southern parts of the US, either referring to them as darkies or pickeninnies. My grandmother was born in 1896. Even though The Civil War was fought, and slavery abolished, there was still incredible racial prejudice and hints of slavery in my grandmother's white world. Then there was a subtle change and, according to my mother, my grandmother taught her girls to refer to African Americans as, colored. In the early 1950s, as a boy, I was told to refer to them as Negroes. Nigger was a derogatory term and I knew it, without having to be told. I saw segregation when I was young. We had maids who would come in once a week to clean the house; their husbands would drop them off and pick them up when the workday was done. Our household thought the world of these women, we never thought of their race. Then came my high school years, late 1960s, early 70s. Angela Davis hit the scene, and almost overnight it seemed African American were to be addressed as Blacks. I feel that many African Americans in today's society still hold on to old facts, despite never seeing slavery themselves or being enslaved. I know from my heritage that many of my familly were white slaves. I don't carry a chip on my shoulder. My fellow Black Americans take heed and learn from experience. We have a niece who is an African American. I don't think of her as anybody but family. She is a fantastic mother and wife to our nephew. We consider ourselves luck to have all of them as a part of our family.

Today is what counts. One cannot live in the past,

It is my opinion that if we were to accept the individual regardless of race, creed, or religion, the world would be a much better place to live in. We as individuals may not agree on everything, but the color of our skin should not have any bearing on the way we treat each other. I may have an issue with another individual, but I try to work it out peacefully, respectfully, regardless of their heritage.

I know I feel a lot better about myself, not having these prejudices looming over me. Why burden ourselves with these things?

We are told this is the land of opportunity. Shouldn't it be for all who live here in America?

Take a look at yourself and think how other nationalities or cultures might be looking at you.

Blair Roddan lives and works in Las Vegas, NV. He loves his wife and likes classic cars, musical comedies, round-dancing, and very dry martini's. This is Blair's 3rd guest blog.