When will the noises end?

At last, there was something that happened unusual enough to spark me to write. I'm talking this time about the state of racism. Ironically, the "aggressors" in this case are often enough the purposeful victims in a majority of other cases, screaming their outrage on public TV.

I'm not trying to be hostile here, I'm just telling it like I see (and today, experienced) it. What happened was this. My sister and I were walking down Mt. Auburn Street, the main road that runs from Harvard Square in Cambridge to Watertown. Close to a main intersection, there was a bus that was parked off to the side chock-full of black kids, probably at the first or second grade level. There was a huge ruckus coming from them, a byproduct of high doses of Kool-Aid and the freshly minted just-got-out-of-school-yay!! rush, I would venture to guess.

As we approached, we started getting excited hellos and cat calls -- dozens of boys sticking their arms out the half-open windows and leaning to get our attention, "Hey!! You're beautiful!!!" (Though I would not consider this unusual from any race). I braced for it, because I just knew it was coming. I didn't have to wait long for that bitter mix of satisfaction, for being right, and disappointment, for what really did happen. It was as pure and as sword-slitting smooth as the first time Rosie O'Donnell uttered her own "Ching Chong" slur. As we passed the bus, we were followed by high-pitched Chinese-sounding noises, a continuous stream of shouts reminiscent of pop-culture TV desperately trying to mimic Chinese food stalls and dry-cleaning joints.

I knew it was coming, but I was astounded by the sudden, very sad realization that these kids are our next generation. Not to mention that they, the race that has withstood just as much obvious racism and perhaps more in its history, were being brought up, in current times, insensitive to the effects of "the word" -- or in this case, "the noises."

If these kids weren't so young, I would have labeled them hypocrites, but how could they know any better than what their own society and family values are teaching them every step of the way; every input they get, every role model they see? We say we the U.S. are so far along, we're so much better than we were 10, 20, 30 years ago. Then why am I not surprised anymore? Why have I begun, in my post-babied life, to need to learn how to take the racist slurs, noises, and cat calling, and just "deal with it"?

My grief is this: in one of the most liberal and intelligent places in the U.S. as Cambridge, how is it imaginable that even these children here are no different?

I am saddened by the thought, and there's no way out.