Living in Dearborn, the capital of Arab America, one hardly experiences racism on a daily basis. But after eight years in the city, it finally happened. I heard a racist statement directed against me.

At 6:30 a.m. last Thursday, I drove my car to a nearby abandoned gas station and parked it there. I don’t have access to a driveway, so on Public Service Day, I have to find off-street parking to avoid a $14 ticket. But that’s a discussion for another day.

On my way back home, I encountered a woman walking her dog. As soon as the dog saw me, he started barking frantically and charging toward me, while jumping and pulling hard against his leash. 

I remained calm and told the dog, “it’s O.K.” The woman, however, did not blink an eye. Instead of apologizing for her dog’s behavior, she gave me a condescending look, as if the dog’s aggressiveness were my fault. 

The dog kept barking and attempting to break away from his owner. As I climbed the steps of my front porch, my across-the-street neighbor, a seemingly nice middle-aged white lady, opened her door to weigh in on the situation. 

She offered the dog-owner a ride home, and after I got to the top of the stairs, she added, “Those people never know how to act around dogs. They jump and freak the dog out.”

After hearing what she said, I walked back to the street and made it clear that I do not appreciate this racially-charged abusive comment.

My neighbor did not call me an “Ay-rab”, or a “sand nigger” or a “camel jockey.” The prevailing political correctness nowadays does not allow the use of such words, especially in front of strangers.

But what she called me was just as bad, if not worse. She referred to me as one of “those people.” To her, I’m one of them. And the group she put me in is clearly defined by ethnicity and national origin. 

Although we should have been on the same team as residents of a neighborhood that was being disturbed by the obnoxious barking of a dog, she put me in a stereotypical category and sealed it with prejudice. 

Her thinking was: He is an Arab, and thus he is a Muslim, and thus he never knows how to act around dogs, even though she did not see my initial interaction with the dog. But despite all the pre-formed convictions she holds against me, the only relevant truth in this situation is that I love dogs, and this dog would’ve probably barked at anyone. 

My neighbor chose identify with a dog, whose owner has the same skin color as hers, instead of a man who greets her almost daily.

Her comment is an example of the dangerous covert racism that is taking hold in this country, at the social and institutional level. 

After Seattle Seahawks player Richard Sherman labeled himself the “best corner in the league” in January, many critics called him a “thug” on social media. Sherman later noted that “‘thug’ seems like it’s an accepted way of calling somebody the N-word now.”

But this subtle bigotry does not only exist on social media and social interactions. It is manifesting itself in the policies of our local and federal governments.

Jim Crow laws are dead and gone, but under funding is creating an underclass of minority students in oversized classrooms in inner-city neighborhoods. 

In 1998, the U.S. government apologized for putting Japanese Americans in internment camps during World War II. However, the government continues to implement racist policies within the context of war. In 2011, a CIA drone strike in Yemen killed Abdulrahman al-Awlaki, a 16-year-old American boy, and nobody cared. The media barely even mentioned the incident, which constituted grounds to impeach the president.

The unfortunate young al-Awlaki was one of “those people.”

Bottom line, racism is well and alive, and we need to be aware of it to combat it.