I woke up early – and as the coffee was perking thought about my prejudices. I was born a Navy brat – and for years, the sight of a Marine or two just made me feel safe. I was past fifty when that ingrained belief from my toddler days had to be examined in reality – the two young Marines that were in the restaurant with me, in dress blues, were headed toward the high school – and then would be going in harm’s way. My toddler pre-judgement that Marines create safety was balanced against my professor responsibility to look out for youngsters.
The Breckenridge, Dad’s last sea duty, still held the vestiges of Woodrow Wilson’s Jim Crow when I was four or five. I visited the galley, and a couple of huge, smiling black men took care of me – feeding me all sorts of goodies before I was returned to Dad’s custody. Rawlston and Jones, maybe. Somehow I tie those names in with a pair of large black men. The prejudice I developed was that big, smiling black men were good company, they were friendly. It’s a prejudice that has served me well – but I still recall the shock that some black faces flat didn’t like whites. Not a big thing – I think that the times I visited the ship (before I was exiled for bringing chickenpox aboard) prepared me to look at people first, and color third or fourth down the line. Besides, it was a white petty officer who told me that I had single-handedly taken the ship out of action – accomplishing something the Imperial Japanese had been unable to do. Later, as an adult, I learned the ship had spent the second world war in the Atlantic. Still, I probably owe thanks to Rawlston and Jones for providing me a good prejudice.
Like I said, my early years were attached to the Pacific fleet – I remember neighbors from the Philippines, and they were fellow Americans. A little shorter than most of my neighbors, but still the same. We’ve had a special relationship with the Philippines since McKinley was President – Filipinos, unlike most foreign nationals, are allowed to enlist in the Navy. The competition is stiff – and those Filipinos I met as a little boy wore the same uniform as the other adults, and treated me well. It’s another good prejudice.
Not all of my pre-judgements are beneficial – sometime, at Puget Sound, I got the idea that Jehovah Witnesses drive Studebakers. I still kind of expect that a Studebaker will unload a couple of JW’s. The last Studebaker rolled off the assembly in 1966 – so it isn’t a very useful belief structure.
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