Discrimination

As painful as it may be, learning about my history has been an eye opener, whether I want to see it or not. Every day I must remind myself what century I am living in because so many things get repeated. I often wonder how my ancestors survived living within so much hatred and discrimination because of the colour of their skin. Being young and naive, I didn't understand why my mother and other women working as maids or housekeepers wore white uniforms and shoes. It still makes no sense to me at all. This post is about discrimination in America during the mid 1950s or the Jim Crow era, and it triggers many memories that I have forgotten or blocked. Those days also remind me of the times we are all living today.

During one of our school holidays, my mother had to take me and my siblings to work with her because she didn't want to leave us alone. We were excited to get on the bus and see all our neighbours and friends. When we reached our destination, the surroundings were very different, more upscale with large homes and all white residents that stared at us with fear and hate in their eyes. We entered the home through the back door or the servant's entry. We were given various tasks, my older brother mowed the lawn, my sister helped my mom to clean the various rooms, and being the young one, I was told to pull weeds from the garden. To this day, I still hate working in a garden.

Like most Black or African American families, we all looked different from each other. Our skin tones were unique. My mom and brother remind me today of a café au lait, my sister reminds me of a dark 'delicious' chocolate like my dad, and I was the odd one with red skin and red hair. I was called a redbone or little rooster. My siblings kept me laughing until I heard a scream from upstairs where my sister was cleaning the toilet and decided that she had to urinate, so she sat on the 'white' toilet seat and the owner of the house, Ms. Woodson screamed at the sight of a black person using her private toilet. For the next hour my sister had to scrub the toilet seat to make sure her coloring didn't show up. After the owner left, my sister took a seat on the toilet and moved all around it for at least 15 minutes. My mother was horrified that she would be fired. The myth was that you can't use anything if a Black person utilises it first, such as a water fountain, a toilet, a chair, or a swimming pool.

Druid Hill Park Pool in Baltimore has a long and complex history tied to segregation and racial discrimination, making it a significant site in the fight for civil rights. Built in 1921, the pool was originally one of the largest public pools in the country, but it was strictly segregated. The pool and the park became central to the struggles of Black Baltimore residents seeking equal access to public amenities. This incident prompted me to research the historical context of discrimination that includes:

• Segregation Laws: During the 20th century, Baltimore, like many American cities, enforced Jim Crow laws that maintained racial segregation. Public facilities like pools, schools, and even parks were racially divided. The Druid Hill Park Pool was designated for white people only, while Black residents were forced to use far smaller, lesser-maintained pools, if any were available at all.

  
  

• Protests and Legal Battles: In the 1930s and 1940s, civil rights activists in Baltimore began organising protests and legal challenges against the segregation of public pools. One of the most notable was the protest led by the Baltimore branch of the NAACP, which advocated for the desegregation of Druid Hill Park Pool and other public facilities. Despite these efforts, the pool remained segregated for many years.

  
  

• Racial Violence and Exclusion: Like many other segregated pools across the country, the issue of race at Druid Hill Park Pool was often intertwined with violence. In many instances efforts to desegregate public pools led to confrontations both legal and physical. Black swimmers faced hostility, including harassment and violence from white residents who opposed integration.

  
  

• Integration: It wasn't until after World War II and following the landmark Supreme Court decision in Brown v. Board of Education (1954), which began the dismantling of segregation laws, that pools like Druid Hill Park Pool were integrated. However, even after formal integration, there was a slow and uneven process of acceptance, with lingering prejudice and discrimination against people of colour. Many pools were abandoned or closed by white communities as they preferred to avoid integrated spaces. These types of decisions are still being made by racists throughout America. In 2009, Keith Bardwell, a white Justice of the Peace in Tangipahoa Parish in Louisiana for over 30 years, refused to sign a marriage license for an inter-racial couple. It wasn't the first time he had refused a couple. Bardwell defended his actions, insisting that he does not believe in mixing races in that way. Throughout most of the 20th century, there were legal bans on interracial marriage. The State of Alabama did not change the prohibition on interracial marriage in its constitution until 2000.

Historically, public swimming pools were often flashpoints for racial tension and violence. This was due to the highly personal nature of swimming, where people were in close contact, and prevailing racist views that resisted sharing intimate spaces with Black people. It makes no sense to me. The integration of public pools was part of a larger pattern where white residents would leave areas or abandon public spaces once they were accessible to Black people, known as "white flight". This happened not only with pools but also in neighbourhoods, schools, hospitals, and other public resources. Despite the challenges, the desegregation of Druid Hill Park Pool stands as a symbol of resistance and victory in the broader struggle for civil rights. The pools' history is a reminder of how public spaces were battlegrounds for racial equality, and its legacy continues to inspire discussions about access to shared spaces today.

While it may seem strange today, many white people in the early 20th century held irrational and deeply racist beliefs about race, often shaped by a mix of fear, ignorance, and conspiracy theories. Many white Americans during the Jim Crow era believed that Black people were inherently inferior, both physically and morally. This was taught to their children at an early age. This led to fears that sharing spaces like swimming pools or water fountains would contaminate them. These anxieties were based on misconceptions about cleanliness, health, and purity, rather than any genuine belief that their skin would change colour, although many lies were shared about this fact to scare white people. They considered their white skin to be superior. Pools were intimate public spaces where bodies came into close contact, which increased their racial fears. White people feared that Black people carried diseases or were unclean, believing they could become infected by simply swimming in the same water, drinking from the same water fountain, or using the same toilet. This was purely a result of racist stereotypes rather than any scientific reality.

The idea of racial purity went beyond their physical fears. White segregationists often viewed any form of integration as a threat to their social dominance and "purity" of white society. The fear was that allowing Black people into public spaces would break down the social order that maintained white supremacy. In this way, sharing something as simple as a water fountain became a symbolic act. White supremacists saw any mixing of races as eroding their status and control. In public pools, there was also concentration on segregation because the physical exposure in swimwear made it seem like a more intimate interaction, intensifying racist resistance or their hidden desires.

In addition to concerns about "contamination," there was a pervasive sexualized fear of Black men, particularly in the context of shared spaces like pools. White segregationists perpetuated the myth that Black men posed a threat to white women, and this fear was frequently used to justify violent segregation, especially in settings where bodies were exposed, such as public swimming pools. The fear wasn't rooted in any biological concern but in racist ideologies that depicted Black men as sex maniacs and dangerous, fuelling opposition to integrated pools.

The belief systems driving segregation were built on myths of racial superiority and the need to maintain a social order where white people remained dominant. The real issue was not a literal belief that sharing water would change someone's skin colour, but rather a desperate effort to keep racial groups separated. As painful as it may be, learning about my history has been an eye opener, whether I want to see it or not. Every day I have to remind myself what century I am living in because so many things get repeated. I often wonder how my ancestors survived living within so much hatred and discrimination because of the color of their skin. Being young and naive, I didn't understand why my mother and other women working as a maid or housekeeper wore white uniforms and shoes. It still makes no sense to me at all. This post is about discrimination in America during the mid 1950s or the Jim Crow era, and it triggers many memories that I have forgotten or blocked.

I always remember my mother saying to each of us, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you," often referred to as the Golden Rule, is a principle that emphasises empathy, kindness, and mutual respect. It encourages treating others with the same care and consideration that you would want for yourself. This idea appears in many cultures, religions, and philosophies, promoting ethical behaviour and compassion. In a societal context, it serves as a powerful guideline for fostering harmonious relationships. It encourages people to step outside their own experiences and consider how their actions affect others, creating a foundation for fairness and justice.

Today, Druid Hill Park and its historical pool are a part of Baltimore’s rich cultural heritage. Though the original large pool is no longer in use, the park remains an important public space for the city's diverse community. The history of Druid Hill Pool is often discussed in the context of broader racial dynamics in Baltimore and the United States, shedding light on the long fight for equality and justice, a story of both discrimination and resilience that still resonates today.

In conclusion, I still don't understand the amount of racism and hatred that thrives in the world. It's confusing to me that we hate people because of their skin colour, their religious beliefs, the colour of their eyes or hair, their body size, or even the neighbourhoods they may live. When I hear of people pledging their allegiance to Hitler and proclaiming to be a Nazi, I tend to cock my head to the side like Pepé the Crow because it makes no sense in the larger scheme of things. It's like having the confederate flag hanging on your wall, on the front lawn, or on the back of pickup trucks. I can think of many other things to do rather than terrorising people because of their culture. One day, hopefully soon, the tables will turn.