War of the Whites in the Streets of Austin

The strangest thing happened the other day.

Two of my friends, Monty and Tracy, and I were walking from a sandwich place on Austin's signature drag, which we locals so aptly call "The Drag," when a group of white, college-aged boys in a newish blue Ford Explorer (windows down, of course) start yelling cat calls at Tracy and me. It's never worth fighting back, but Monty took it upon himself (we were grateful for the gesture, nonetheless Monts) to heap his cup of remaining Dr. Pepper onto the boys' car, at which point the boys decided it would be worth their time to park the Explorer and come shrieking after us, "Cunt! Bitch! Why you throwin' that sandwich bag at my car!?" I turned around and replied "Dude, what's the big deal? You were cat calling me and my friend!"

They sped up a little bit, yelling "What bitch? You're a cunt! Which one of you threw that drink?" At this point we're scared shitless that these boys are going to jump Monty, so I stupidly decide to poke at their consciences. "You are acting ridiculous, he threw a little bit of drink on your car -- you were making my friend and me feel uncomfortable. You don't know us and you have no right to talk to us that way!"

"Cunt! Who do you think you are, I fuckin' bought that car for my girlfriend two months ago."

Okay I'm thinking this kid does not have a girlfriend, at least hopefully for her. Then another, this one wearing a cross around his neck, pipes up, saying "Yeah, cunt! Throwing a drink on his girlfriend's new car is no better!"

"You're being so unreasonable, do you see that you just walked four blocks to come yell "bitch and cunt" at us?? And you with your cross, is this Jesus' teaching? Yeah, you need to reevaluate your life!"

"Guys," this one tall kid who'd been quiet until then spoke up. "We've got nothing more to say...let's go...they've got nothing more to say. Let's go."

A few more "bitch, cunts" were thrown around by two really angry dudes in the back before both groups of us turned around and walked away. What was most telling about the final minute or so was the look on the face of the boy wearing the cross. His mouth was sort of half open, and his overall expression was one of painful understanding. It was apparent then that he'd never been asked why he acts like an angry, womanizing rich rapper.

I realized that this privileged white kid who wanted so badly to know himself/have a cause/feel something about something had no idea who he was. This boy, and all of us who were standing in the group, is a product of a culture mostly devoid of any reasonably healthy white role models. Sure, we've got our Brad Pitts, Angelina Jolies, Natalie Portmans and Adam Brodys, but popular culture no longer has a widely appealing (and at the same time, valuable) guide for us.

So we get angry, drunk, and/or pilled out before concerts.

Whites, Blacks, Hispanics, Asians - all of us - as races, and for individually varying reasons, struggle with our racial identity. We struggle against our cultural icons and our peers. And in this climate, we're eventually going to be living off the 'natural Earth' in solitude, or we'll all join gangs and fight for survival with our machine guns.

So what's it gonna to be, America? This? That? Or the ever elusive "not this?"