So I'm at this spot in San Antonio, Alamo records to be exact, and I'm in the mood for some diggin. Of course it's a spot that mostly specializes in Country, rock and roll, et cetera, but it's in those places you find joints that you're really looking for.

The shop owner gives me and my homeboy the 3rd degree, thinking that we're going to mess up his paper dividers... Anyway, my boy gets amped, and they have it out. He doesn't call him a racist outright, but you know the dialogue. He bounces out.

I on the other hand, kept digging. He asks me how could I have kept on digging?

Why did I stay and keep digging?

I've seen plenty of up close racism on a daily basis living in the burbs, in the hood, and at school. But nowadays, I think to myself, I can't let that stop me from what I want to do. It's been stopping me for years on a lot of different things. I think of it most when it comes to shopping for stuff in general, but I have a feeling it trickles down into other areas of life. I mean how come I don't spend my time learning to snow board, or stock car race? What's wrong with me going to learn some French or Italian cuisine, even though I have to share a cutting board with republican soccer moms?

But I'm not sure If I really made a stand. I stood for what I believe, but I feel a need to explain it to others.

comments. similar experiences. coping strategies.

k. orr