Black Like Me

By John Howard Griffin

As a citizen of Texas, Griffin, a white man, saw people of different races everyday but his attention was especially drawn to black people, or as they were called then, Negroes. (Of course, negro is just another way of saying black since that is the original meaning of the word in Spanish.) Griffin, at a time when the civil rights of blacks was just starting to become a national concern, decided to investigate the status of blacks in the South. His plan was to go undercover as a black man using skin dyes and a medication that causes the skin to darken when exposed to ultraviolet light.
He revealed his new self to the world in New Orleans and tried living as a black man. His first problem was simply finding places where a black man could eat, get a drink of water, use the toilet or wash his hands and finally, find a place to sleep. It's hard to believe, but in those days blacks were not even allowed to use the same dishes as white people so you couldn't even go the back door of a cafe or restaurant and buy a glass of water to drink. Ridiculous.
His next step in the plan was to try and find work. Even though he was an educated and experienced man of letters he was completely unable to find any work at all while in New Orleans. He ended up assisting a black man who had a shoe shine stand -- it was the only work he could get. Of course, he didn't need the money since the whole trip was being sponsored by a black-oriented magazine. But he was really surprised that when he tried to cash his travelers checks no one would do it. The only place that was willing to take a black man's travelers check was a Catholic thrift store.
After a few weeks in New Orleans, he decided to get more deeply into the role of a black in the South by going to Mississippi. At the time, whites in the deep South maintained that the blacks in their communities were completely happy and contented with the status quo and had no wish to be full citizens with all the rights that includes. Griffin wanted to see the truth of Mississippi for himself.
Again he planned to look for work and once again could not find anyone who would hire him. He hitchhiked and rode buses and traveled around Mississippi and into Georgia and Alabama. Two things that struck him during his travels, besides the difficulties of finding just the basics of life, were the hate stares of casual passersby and the filthy and salacious talk of the white men who gave him rides when hitchhiking.
These white men would offer him rides, especially in the evening, and many of them would want to talk to him about his sexual experiences with white women and black women, or want to brag to him about their own sexual exploits. Griffin found this kind of interrogation disgusting and disheartening and began to dread conversation with these men.
As for the hate stares, for no reason, just because he was there, white people, particularly white women, would glare at him with anger and hate in their eyes. He found these hate stares shocking and depressing. In fact, these hate stares were one of the most depressing experiences during his whole undercover investigation and lead him into a much deeper appreciation for the downtrodden oppression of the life of the typical black person in the South. Of course, Griffin really knew he was a white man and could go back to being white anytime he wanted. So, although he got a taste of what blacks knew as their everyday experience, he never really knew what it truly meant to be black at that time and place with no escape from the reality of segregation and discrimination.
Montgomery, Alabama, was the nail in his black coffin. The hatefulness of the whites there so oppressed and distressed Griffin that he felt he could no longer continue the masquerade. But after making the switch and now able to enjoy all the privileges of the white race, he felt no joy in it, just how shabby and sour it all was, how unbearable. Walking into a black neighborhood as a white man, he experienced the same hate stares he'd received from whites, but now the stares were directed at him, the white man, from the local blacks.

This was a pretty good book. The things he finds out about being black are not too surprising, although they may have been at the time the story was published in about 1961. He and his family faced a lot of negative feedback after the story came out, negative feedback that he did anticipate but he still went ahead with the project, which was rather brave of him. If his imposture had been discovered by less tolerant types than it was, he could have been beaten or killed. Even almost fifty years later it is a fascinating and compelling story.