“Is this a racist thought – I love the fact that the area is diversifying because I love hot tamales?”
“Okay, it could be … do you care about the people that make the tamales?”
“Well, I don't really know them, but I give my money to the real instead of buying the corporate made store-bought generic, which means I'm not supporting cultural appropriation but actually enjoying the culture and compensating the people that brought the culture to us.”
“Okay, but, do you like Latino people?”
“I don't know enough individuals to like them or not like them – but I surely love hot tamales.”
Lieutenants Jackson and Carter, on their way back to police headquarters in Big Loft, VA, were driving up on their favorite taco truck in downtown Big Loft. They were in an unmarked car, for good reasons – their department did not have a good record with the Latino or Black communities in the city and across Lofton County, and so they did not want to spread fear when going to get some of their favorite food to take back to the division.
Captain Lee, once he had gotten back from the infirmary (see the “Garlic Breath” and “Ferry” freewrites to understand how he got there), was greeted with his share of steaming hot tamales and the story of how they had come to the division. His office was packed full at this point with his five lieutenants and him and the wonderful odors of maize and pork and spices. Normally, a hot tamale was a bit too starchy for him, but Lieutenants Carter and Jackson had spent their own money on the division, so he thanked the Lord for the food and them and the other lieutenants and every hand involved, and then joined them in eating and discussing … .
“So, you took an unmarked car today?”
“Yeah. We knew we were going by the truck, and so were not trying to spread fear.”
“And, you knew you were not going to do anything evil to the proprietors and preparers of this fine food?”
“Of course not.”
“You paid them fairly?”
“Of course.”
“Congratulations. That is that fundamental species of anti-racism called common decency.”
Lieutenants Carter and Jackson jumped.
“The bar is higher than that, gentlemen, to truly be against racism. However, the achievement of common decency is beyond some, so we are making progress in this division.”
“What else should we have done?”
“Think instead in this way: in how many areas of life can you be that decent? When there are police matters, political matters – matters of power and profit – can you be that decent when it may cost us as white men the opportunity to continue to widen the gap between ourselves and others? Can we consistently be what the American story always says we are – good, honorable, decent – to people not to appearances like us as well as to people in appearance like us? Start there. Put six months into just that, and then we will have the conversation again.”
Captain Lee's five young lieutenants – who were about to come to blows with each other that morning over a coffee change – turned pink, and said no more as they ate their tamales and considered this idea … .