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Published on 10/09/1995 All articles from this issue

MINORITY--A MATTER OF GEOGRAPHY

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By Mary Cristy

The minorities are taking over," said the indignant citizen.

"What's a minority?"

"Oh, you know! Those people."

"Those" people come from places where they were the majority.

They have no way of knowing they are minorities until they arrive i new worlds and see faces of different color and configurations other than their own.

When one thinks in terms of Marshall McLuhan's global village it becomes evident that minority status is a matter of geography. A woman on tour in Nairobi returned to her hotel to join her husband at dinner and reported in awed disbelief, "John, everyone here is black."

While such naievete may be rare, it does exist and is not the exclusive province of the stereotypical ugly American who herself becomes a minority when she sets foot on foreign soil.

"Minority" is a demographic device, a political ploy, a label, a creation evolving out of the insecurity of those who harbor an inner need for ascendancy over others.

A pecking order results. 'We' and 'They" camps are established and exclusionary lines are drawn.

The unequivocal message is "Stay in your place and I'll stay in mine ... " The unspoken words are clearly understood " ... and you won't get hurt." At the Citadel would-be-cadet Shannon Faulkner, paid a high price for her minority status. As the lone woman in a male-dominated bailiwick, she posed a threat and a challenge to the prevailing super-masculinity at this aptly named institution.

Her inability to stay the course stemmed not from the rigors of Hell Week, but from soul-killing ostracism by classmates - not one of whom offered a smile, a word of encouragement or a hand in friendship.

Minority mentality flourishes wherever the small, the mean-spirited, the spiritually bereft deny their fellows life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness while claiming these privileges for themselves.

Thus it fashions a sword that cuts both ways to diminish those who wield it and those who cringe beneath its ' sting.

When freedom dies for one man it dies for every man.

A clever writer's variation on the theme of Creation has God and the angels making humans with which to populate the planet. After days of unremitting toll the head angel approaches his Chief to report: "We're running out of colors, Lord. There's no more yellow, brown or black, and the crew is getting awefully tired." Weary himself and eager to finish the task the Lord sighs deeply. "Well, just do what you can." he replies, "Go ahead and make the rest of them white."