When I landed in Vietnam at the tender age of 18, I carried with me the prejudices of my upbringing—a poor southern boy from south Mississippi, close to thinking I was somehow superior to any man. I recount a particular incident where I forgot to fill my canteens with water before leaving the Tactical Operations Center (TOC). A Black man from Detroit kindly offered me a drink from his canteen, which I promptly declined, stating I wouldn’t want to drink after anyone else. He simply smiled and returned his canteen to its holder. It didn’t take long for my lesson in humility to arrive.
In the days that followed, we found ourselves in a fierce firefight, resulting in many casualties. Every canteen on my rucksack had been struck by bullets and shrapnel, leaving not a single drop of water. It was then that this same Black man handed me his canteen, which held the most refreshing water I had ever tasted. This was a life lesson that would stay with me forever.
To my amazement, I soon realized that color held no significance when it came to protecting any American soldier. Bullets, blood, and explosions showed no preference; they cared not about wealth, poverty, rank, or race—they claimed all equally. While it was true that in our downtime, Blacks often socialized with Blacks, and Whites with Whites, there were always individuals from both groups who bridged this divide. This is not to suggest that we were separated into distinct groups during combat; it’s simply that, during moments of respite, people often gravitated towards those with whom they felt the most commonality.
The friend who had selflessly given me his canteen when I was thirsty later advised me to spend more time with our friends because his friends were talking. At 18, I had no idea what he meant or why he said it, but I did distance myself from his friendship for a while. Later, my own friends conveyed a similar message: I should remain within the bounds of my own group. Life’s lessons came with strange twists and turns, accompanied by countless unwritten rules. The great equalizer was the sudden occurrence of being wounded or killed; when that happened, you became the lead actor because the ones who made the rules were no longer with us.
During my year in that foreign land, I never once heard anyone express hatred towards another person because of their skin color. My deeply ingrained habit of judging people based on their color was tested repeatedly. I had to accept that things were not as I had been taught, and in doing so, I became a better person.
I labeled it racism because I believe equality should be the only gift bestowed upon every American by the government. The era of special treatment must come to an end. The time for universal truth and equality across the nation has arrived. Creating distinctions between groups of Americans will only sow discord in the future. Whether your great-grandparents traveled on the Queen Mary, served as indentured servants, or endured the horrors of slavery on a ship, we are all Americans, and freedom should be the sole gift bestowed upon those who seek to become part of this great nation.
richardwboyanton 