Blackface apology

Back in 1982, I went to a church Halloween party.  I had just turned 19, I was in college at FSU, and the guy I went with was also an FSU student about the same age.  He and I both went to the same church.  When we got together to talk about our costumes, he suggested that we go as Raggedy Ann and Andy.  I have red hair, so it was a good idea for a costume.

When other people would ask what we were going as, I would tell them, "Oh, Raggedy Ann and Andy," and they'd say something like, "How cute!"

The night came, and we showed up as Raggedy Ann and Andy.

A black Raggedy Ann and Andy.

My date had the idea that it would funny to tell everyone that we were going as Raggedy Ann and Andy and show up as a black Raggedy Ann and Andy, and I went along with it.  I think a couple of other people knew what we were going to do also.  We had shoe polish and we put it all over our skin, including our faces.  In fact, when we arrived, my date came down the hill from the parking lot with a boom box on his shoulder.   I even remember that the song playing on the boom box was Toto's "Africa".

Everyone laughed, and we had a good time.

Back then, I had never heard of the term "blackface".  And although I may have been slightly familiar with the term "minstrel show", I had no idea that it was considered controversial; that it, according to Wikipedia,  "lampooned black people as dim-witted, lazy, buffoonish, superstitious, and happy-go-lucky."

It was years before I realized that what we had done was Raggedy Ann and Andy in blackface.  And unfortunately, it took longer before I realized exactly how offensive that could be. (Incidentally, the church I attended was racially mixed.  Our campus minister at the time was African-American, and he never said anything to me about my costume.  No one else did, either.)

I've thought about this in light of a photo that's recently come to light in Virginia governor Ralph Northam's 1984 medical school yearbook (two years after the party I attended), of two people, one dressed in blackface and the other in the robes and hood of the Ku Klux Klan.  Northam first apologized and said that he was in the photograph, "in a costume that is clearly racist and offensive", then said he wasn't sure if he was either person, and now says that he's not either person, even though he did once darken his face for a Michael Jackson dance contest.

Because of that photograph, people are now calling for his resignation as governor.  The photo inflamed feelings that were already riled up about his comments concerning late-term abortion.  (I'm not discussing that particular issue in this blog entry because, frankly, I'm worn out from the recent abortion wars and I don't want to get into it here.)

I don't know what these people were thinking, but even in 1984 Virginia, you had to know that dressing up as a member of the Klan was not cool!!

(Side note:  Governor Northam said that he only put a little bit of shoe polish on his face because "you can't get that stuff off."  Gee, I seemed to have no trouble with getting shoe polish off of my face. <sarcasm font.>)

I don't know what Ralph Northam may or may not have been thinking.

But here's what I have to say about my very brief experience with blackface:

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I dressed in a way that has been used to mock and make fun of African-Americans.

And although I can honestly say that my intention was not racist, that my intention was not to make fun of African-Americans, I can absolutely see that that costume would be offensive.  This is not something I would do today.  Nor would I encourage anyone else to do it.

If you were at that party in 1982, I'm sorry for my costume.

If you were an African-American at that party in 1982 and you saw me in that costume, I'm sorry I wore it.  I'm sorry if you were hurt, and I'm sorry that I was the one who was the agent of that hurt.

I'm especially sorry if you saw me in that costume, and you were offended and hurt, and didn't feel like you could say anything to me.  To be honest, if you had at that time, I probably would not have understood why my costume was so offensive to you.  Just because no one ever said anything to me doesn't mean that you shouldn't have been hurt or offended.

At 19, I was young and stupid, and I hope I've learned better about what can be -- and often is -- offensive to others.   I don't want to be a racist.  I don't want to be deliberately offensive to people.  I don't want to be unkind and uncaring.

Should the governor of Virginia resign his office over a photograph?  I really don't know.

But an apology over my blackface costume in October of 1982?

That, I can do.

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.