A Man Spit On My Toddler And Called Her The N-Word.

Somethings are still like 1955, obviously you don't get it or you wouldn't make stupid ass statements like that. So the woman has to be lying, because a white man would never do anything like that.
True...but not true of a black man. Sometimes they ( black men ) even punch toddlers of other skin colors in the face.....
 
It was at a local barbecue joint in downtown Lexington, Kentucky, when a tall man approached the table where I was sitting with my two daughters, 4 and 2. He lingered there long enough, just looking at us, that I’d begun to hatch an escape plan. I’d already broken into a full-blown sweat before I even realized what he’d just done: spit on my 2-year-old, his saliva landing on her thigh. He then walked away, muttering the N-word under his breath, oblivious to the inaccuracy of the insult.
I was born and raised in Malaysia. I am biracial, of Malay and Indian descent. I came to the United States after falling in love and marrying my blond, blue-eyed American husband. Though I am brown and my husband white, my children, born here in America ― true blue Americans ― are neither. They have an indiscernible olive skin tone, but they are not white.

My neighbors and community voiced their silent agreement, condoning such a vile act when they offered no defense, no comfort, not even acknowledgment that it happened.

The entire restaurant, all white diners from what I could see around me, had watched the incident, avoided eye contact with me, and carried on with their lunches, glancing at us from time to time, confirming what I knew to be true already: We were the others.

I’m also treated very differently when I’m with my white husband than when I’m on my own. People have yelled at me, “Go back where you came from.” Retail assistants have followed me around stores, saying, “There is nothing here for you.” A woman at a makeup counter once denied me service, glancing past me at the white woman behind me in line, telling her she was ready, as if I were invisible. But the glob of spit that hit my daughter that day was a whole new low. I could hold it in and tolerate my pain when the aggressions were directed toward me, but it burned me in a way I hadn’t felt before to see my children subject to such indignity.

What can you say?

How do you think a person should react to something like this being done to their child?
I'd use my phone to take a picture of the mug of the offender, a picture of the spit product on my child's body, get multiple copies to my lawyer and police and get him off the street for hate crime and the poisonous abuse of an American child. After 15 years in the slammer, the offender might decide it wasn't worth it. I'm saddened to hear of something so vile against a child and his family.
 
It was at a local barbecue joint in downtown Lexington, Kentucky, when a tall man approached the table where I was sitting with my two daughters, 4 and 2. He lingered there long enough, just looking at us, that I’d begun to hatch an escape plan. I’d already broken into a full-blown sweat before I even realized what he’d just done: spit on my 2-year-old, his saliva landing on her thigh. He then walked away, muttering the N-word under his breath, oblivious to the inaccuracy of the insult.
I was born and raised in Malaysia. I am biracial, of Malay and Indian descent. I came to the United States after falling in love and marrying my blond, blue-eyed American husband. Though I am brown and my husband white, my children, born here in America ― true blue Americans ― are neither. They have an indiscernible olive skin tone, but they are not white.

My neighbors and community voiced their silent agreement, condoning such a vile act when they offered no defense, no comfort, not even acknowledgment that it happened.

The entire restaurant, all white diners from what I could see around me, had watched the incident, avoided eye contact with me, and carried on with their lunches, glancing at us from time to time, confirming what I knew to be true already: We were the others.

I’m also treated very differently when I’m with my white husband than when I’m on my own. People have yelled at me, “Go back where you came from.” Retail assistants have followed me around stores, saying, “There is nothing here for you.” A woman at a makeup counter once denied me service, glancing past me at the white woman behind me in line, telling her she was ready, as if I were invisible. But the glob of spit that hit my daughter that day was a whole new low. I could hold it in and tolerate my pain when the aggressions were directed toward me, but it burned me in a way I hadn’t felt before to see my children subject to such indignity.

What can you say?

How do you think a person should react to something like this being done to their child?
I would have called the police, reported to the manager and have the manager step into the issue and then file assault charges against the scum. Then I'd sue him and the restaurant.
 
The standard white racist dodge. You are here because of the past. Shut up with the excuses and take responsibility for what has been caused.





YOU need to take responsibility for YOUR failures NOW!
 
I have. So start doing something about white racism NOW!

Instead of repeating the dunbfuck bullshit you just did.



I am on record that racists, of any color, are bad.

How about you?
 
Why is the "N-word" (spoken by Whitey but embraced by Darkies in most of their rap material) so devastating to Negroids?
 

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