Phil Robertson had this to say about his relationship with blacks in his life:
"I never, with my eyes, saw the mistreatment of any black person," Robertson told GQ writer Drew Margary. "Not once. Where we lived was all farmers. The blacks worked for the farmers. I hoed cotton with them. I’m with the blacks, because we’re white trash. We’re going across the field.... They’re singing and happy. I never heard one of them, one black person, say, ‘I tell you what: These doggone white people’—not a word!... Pre-entitlement, pre-welfare, you say: Were they happy? They were godly; they were happy; no one was singing the blues."For his apostasy, the NAACP labeled him a racist. The very thought that he got along with blacks and they were happy! Outrageous!
One of the things I've enjoyed working with the poor and the homeless is how un-racially-conscious they are. It's nothing to see a young black man sharing some of his food with a Hispanic dude or to see a black woman making sure that an elderly Asian woman gets seen first, even though the Asian can't speak a word of English and the black woman could have gone ahead of her. When the whole Zimmerman thing was going crazy and we all needed to have a National Conversation on Race, nothing changed downtown. Everyone got along just fine in that little, very racially diverse world. Also, despite being poor to the point where they needed to come to us for food, they were a pretty cheerful lot.
Hmm. I seem to be speaking heresy, just like Phil. Can this be our little secret? I'd really appreciate it if none of you told the NAACP that I'd written these things.