The Handy-man Can cuz He Mixes it With Love and Makes the World Taste Good

The last handy man my landlord had was . . . bad. (Long story. Or stories.) Now I have a nice new one. He's pleasant, dependable, and best of all, efficient. Today he and a Mexican helper came over to install smoke and carbon monoxide detectors. The Mexican and I talked about the Church (of course) and the handy man talked about rock and roll. Then the handy man explained how he and his wife had moved out of Athens. Very casually he gave the reason: "to get away from the Blacks." I was stunned. Then he continued with his philosophy (a common philosophy since I've moved South but hey, every time I hear it it gets a little stranger): "I'm not racist, but there are Blacks and then there are niggers. And they're getting bad around here (Athens)." He was confiding in me as another white person. He just logically assumed I'd understand and sympathize. Yes, Blacks are getting bad around here--almost as if he was talking about rodents or termites. "This house has a termite problem."/"Athens has a Black problem." See, I've heard this very sentiment a LOT--mainly from old whites, but also from young guys like himself. So I'm not totally shocked or livid or anything. But then suddenly, after he tells me this I'm wondering, "Oh no, he's gonna find me out," because I've got pictures of UFO stationed all around my bedroom, and photos of the prisoners I know in the living room--I even have a drawing of 2pac on my wall near a statue of St. Martin de Porres and across from a big picture of a black boy praying. I guess he saw all these but assumed these were Black folks, not niggers. Though it's hard to find any solid reasoning in cases like these. The more I think about this, the more irritated and worried I become. Often I've been confided in by other whites, who just take my whiteness for granted. It's as if they think I'll share their ideas because my skin tone resembles theirs. But would they still confide in me if they knew my life, what I do, or, more precisely, WHO I know and HOW I know them? If I do end up marrying UFO or (gasp) another Black man, will I finally be out of the "white club of secrets"? I kind of like being "in". That way you really know who's who. But I guess my handy man wouldn't consider UFO a nigger anyways. He wears polos and isn't in a gang. What gets me is that when a black person does something wrong, he's a "nigger." But there's no special term for a white person who messes up. Now don't get me wrong. I can get along with racists, I even dated one once. It was interesting. Of course I broke up with him, but that's another story. But when an old lady tells me she's afraid of Blacks, or when a frat boy makes a creepy joke, I can deal with it. I'm not about to join the Black Panthers (would I be a White Panther?) The closest I come is wearing the bougu gown (Igbo) that UFO sent me. I'm more than happy to be what I am. I just think that we should all be happy with what others are, too.