Racially Inaccurate

One of the most frustrating things in today’s society is racial profiling. You see it everywhere. White people locking their car doors in black neighborhoods, cops pulling over black people when they weren’t speeding to look for drugs, taxis avoiding black people because they worry they will at worst be robbed, and at best be left unpaid. Not cool.

But black people aren’t the only people who struggle with racial profiling. As an American Indian (I’m not sure what kind) and an Italian (And some other cauc-boring heritages I don’t identify with), I too have struggled with racial profiling. Even some of the closest people to me have brought into my life the grief associated with racial profiling. My own husband, upon learning of my native American heritage (<1%), asked me if I had a spirit guide, if I like tribal music, and worst of all, if I could paint with all the colors of the wind. I was outraged. No, I don’t know how to use an axe. No I don’t sleep in a teepee. This is stereotyping. Racial stereotyping. I, like all indians, buy my wood at Home Depot. I sleep in a condo near downtown Decatur. We listen to top 40. We are just like you. Shame on you, husband. Shame on you.

Similarly, people always ask me…”Dinner at your grandparents must be the best!” And I mean, yes it is. My grandmother makes a mean Schiacciata. But that is a racial stereotype, and I do not appreciate it. Its not OK to assume that just because I’m Italian I can make really great bready foods, or that I have a firey attitude that makes me look prettier when I’m mad, or that I’m an excellent lover, or that I will age well. Those things may be true, they may not be. My point is that is it racial stereotyping. Let’s rise above this travesty and get to know people for what they are, without making assumptions.

What I hate: Racial profiling

What I love: Dream catchers and pizza

Polos For Piercings

I don’t know much about the regular sized Five Points, but Little Five Points (Atlanta) has a serious problem. Filled with great restaurants, decent shopping, and some nearby chain-

essentials (Best Buy, Borders, Target), Little Five Points is also plagued with a serious problem: weirdos.

Normally I would just forget about a place that has large groups of pierced and painted Goths, or white people with no shirt on and dred locks, or people riding their bike with two different shoes on and an oxygen tank as a backpack . BUT Savage Pizza has good pizza (Atlanta good, not New York good), and Front Page News has good dessert – and enough tv’s for every eyeball in the place to be watching a different game. I also hear The Vortex is pretty good, though I admit I haven’t had the guts to go in there because the entrance seems to encourage the hooligans, and they generally congregate there - after all, the tetanus shot is not 100% effective. We all say that we’re not cool enough to go to Little Five alone, but we all know the real reason regular people go there in groups is because they’re afraid to be licked or get their palm read by a man with no hands.

The Caucasian prep student in me feels very strongly about this issue.  And the Evangelist knows just what to do about it. So without further ado, I present to you a new ministry targeted at the freaks of Little Five Points. You give us your piercings, we'll give you a polo. 

We come in peace. We’re here to help. Please don’t touch me.