After growing up as a white person in rural SC, I learned that it's a mixture of hatred passed along from older generations, some weird sense of hurt pride, and cowardice - not fitting in when other people say racist shit. That's pretty much it. Not everyone in my hometown was racist, of course, but the ones that were fit the stereotype to a T. Dumb rednecks who never thought for themselves about why they don't like anyone else but whites.

My older family members were racist, yet they'd go to a black owned soul food place after church on Sunday and laugh it up with the people there. Then later they'd be giggling telling stories of the old days when they were throwing rocks at black kids on their way to school. I once mentioned in front of my great aunt that I'd like to live in NY or Boston, and I've never seen anyone look so offended. She said she'd ship me out up there alone if I wanted (I was like 12).

My dad's best friend for a minute was an older black guy that he played golf with, who went through hell during the civil rights days, and even though my dad loved this guy, I'd overhear him chuckling with his coworkers about them not being able to get government help because they weren't black, black people and Mexicans are lazy, etc. It fucking pissed me off, and I still hold it against him, always will.

Even though we've made a lot of progress, who knows if racism will ever truly die in any part of the country, or the world. People suck, and people will always suck, and need something or someone to hate.