Relationships | Racism
The Day I Stood Up To A Racist
At a Spam Festival

It was the summer of 2017 and we were at a car show.
It’s a lot of fun to have a cool car to drive and I love to go for long drives in the countryside.
Attending a car show is another thing entirely.
There are lots of people waiting at the gate to the show. As each car arrives, there’s a bunch of fanfare as they welcome you. The local car club usually has a photographer taking pictures and you are escorted to your spot for the day.
We usually bring a couple of lawn chairs and an umbrella for sunny days. We park the car, hide our belongings in the trunk, and use a couple of shammies to wipe any road dust off the paint job.
Then we settle in for a long day.
There’s not a lot to do. You can casually stroll around up and down each row, looking at interesting cars and greeting any friends you might meet.
Eventually, you return to your car and hang out. If you’re lucky, someone will come by and you can spend a bit of time socializing.
We were at a Spam Fest.
This car show was a Spam Fest, which is an annual celebration of all things Spam related. There’s even a cooking contest, complete with awards that include a case of Spam. Some attendees get really creative, providing delicacies that include candied Spam, Spam brownies, and Spam cookies.
Some of the guys really get into it, circling the Spam specialty table, tasting the offerings with great relish. I’m not fond of processed meats, no matter how iconic, so I usually leave these delectables to others.
We had set up a couple of big umbrellas to shade us from the sun and had quite a few friends dropping by.
About eight of us were sitting in a circle, eating our lunch, and sharing some snacks when a man I’ll call Ronald showed up.
Ronald was a bit of a loner. His wife never came with him to car shows but that wasn’t unusual in itself. He wandered over to the group and after a few nods and hellos, he proceeded to launch into a rant.
“So,” he said, “what do you all think of all those blacks walking around town this year?”
There was a stunned silence and several people exchanged awkward glances. I was so surprised I wasn’t sure that I’d heard him correctly.
“It’s such a shame you know? They come from god knows where and they’re always hanging around the bus stops, it makes me want to puke.”
Now people were getting really uncomfortable, but no one was doing anything. I raised my eyebrows and looked at a couple of friends but they wouldn’t meet my eyes.
I’d had enough. There was no way I was going to let this guy come into our circle and start mouthing off. It was not ok and I wasn’t going to keep quiet.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my husband looking at me. He knew the guy was a jerk and he also knew what I was thinking. I decided to try an indirect route.
“Hey,” I said to the man sitting next to me, “what about all those International Students in town?” He looked at me, a bit startled as we’d only just met.
Ronald started mouthing off again. I spoke louder, ignoring him.
“I find it so refreshing to see people from another culture, you know? They bring new energy to the valley, don’t you think? And it’s so good for our kids to see people from different cultures. We live in such a ‘white bread’ city.”
“That’s true,” said the man, catching on to my strategy. “I think it’s really wonderful to have people from other cultures living here. It makes our sleepy town a lot more interesting. I hear they’ve been volunteering at the cultural center.”
“Well, I guess no one wants to talk to me,” said Ronald. “I’m just telling it like it is.”
I looked my friend right in the eye, ignoring Ronald. Others started chiming in.
“We were just saying that the other day, weren’t we?” said Cindy, nudging her husband. He was looking uncomfortable.
“Uh, yeah,” he said.
At that, Ronald walked off in a huff, muttering to himself.
This interaction brought a greater awareness of how decisions we make each moment can make a larger impact than we think.
It left me wondering what would have happened if I hadn’t spoken up.
Was it possible that Ronald might have found support for his point of view? Were there others in the group that didn’t speak up because they weren’t sure how to do it? Would they think twice before remaining silent again?
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Mental Health
Noun Deficiency Syndrome is a condition where you begin to lose your nouns, finding yourself saying things like: ‘please pass the white stuff, while gesturing at the salt shaker.’
