When It comes to male anger, I understand. I spent much of my youth angry. At the world. At anyone that questioned me, or asked me for anything. It was always just under the surface. Ready to jump out and attack anyone within ear shot.
I would raise my voice, throw things (golf clubs were my favorite item to launch), even punch a wall or two. I’m not proud of that behavior, however it did teach me much about myself. About my family, my childhood. I was raised to be a racist. To fear and dislike anyone that was different. Everyone I knew told off color bigoted jokes. The occasional N-word from the grand parents. I didn’t know any different.
There were only a handful of non-white people where I grew up, and most of them were Native Americans but they stuck mostly to the reservations.
I never cared for the jokes or the derogatory language, but I never spoke up. I never pushed back at any of it. I would stand up for women because even though I was raised wrong, I was also raised to be a gentleman. At least toward women, which still seems odd to me. I never realized that all of the jokes were backed in hate, because i never saw the hate. When raised in this environment the jokes don’t sound like hate. Everyone laughs afterwords.
At 19 I left home and moved across the country. My world exploded. I was surrounded by people that were not like myself. I soon realized that, these people probably don’t think those jokes and stereotypes were funny. I never repeated one again. It dawned on me that I was not raised right , and that everyone was basically the same. We’re all just trying to get by in this mess of a world. We all just want a better life for ourselves and our family and friends.
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