Racially Divided Town United By Shared Homophobia

 

BACKWATER, AL—Residents of Backwater, a small town in rural Alabama with deep racial divisions, have recently come together to celebrate their shared homophobia.

“See, I don’t think kindly of all them blacks in the bad part of town, but you know what’s even worse? A bunch of goddamn homosexuals, yessir,” said Josiah Whitman, a longtime resident of Hightown, a collection of houses with peeling paint around a 7-11 in the northern part of Backwater. “Just last week, a pair of nancies moved in right down the street from me, yessir, I kid you not. Saw ‘em holding hands and talking and shit. Disgusting.”

Natasha Jackson, an activist from Tindall Street, the heart of Backwater’s African American community, has long fought for the rights of black citizens.

“My great-granddaddy was a sharecropper and he worked hard just so his kids could get some land. ‘Course, we had to fight them white folks all the way just so we could get our kids to go to the integrated school. But I can’t say we had much success in bringing the communities together, not until a few of the gays moved in here to start a new farm. It’s like I heard on the radio, the lesbian farmers are taking over.” She went on to say, “Backwater’s a place for families, not the gay agenda. They need to take their damn agenda and shove it somewhere, I won’t say. I bet they’d enjoy that.”

Members of both the black and white communities congregated at the historically black church on Tindall Street to discuss the threat of homosexual farmers and the new post-racial homophobic alliance.

“I have to say, I ain’t never been too fond of this whole integrated thing,” Whitman said from the podium as he stood beside Jackson. “I know we got to heal the deep wounds we gave each other, but I know we are united – united, I tell y’all,-in the fight against the sin that is enveloping our town.” The crowd burst into applause and members of the congregation, black and white, embraced in a show of solidarity.

The next day, a parade of townspeople from all ethnic groups marched through town, toting signs that read “Homosexuality is Sin”, “Repent, Sinners”, and “Take Your Candy Asses Back To California Where They Belong.”

Lowell Hamon, a gay peanut farmer who lives with his partner down the street from Mr. Whitman, watched as they marched by his house. “So inspiring,” he said. “It’s really great to see so much racial healing going on here. Honestly, I’m just glad to be a part of it.” When asked why he didn’t move to somewhere more friendly to the LGBT community, Hamon laughed. “Y’all crazy? I ain’t gonna live with a bunch of libtards. No sir, ain’t nobody taking my guns.”

After the parade, Hamon was seen at the shooting range with Whitman, planning a unity rally against “liberal bullshit.”

 

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About Kushal Chatterjee 60 Articles
Kushal is a hurricane hitting a Brachiosaurus stuck in rush hour traffic. He is the harmless prank phone call that frightens your mother into moving your entire family eight counties away. He is the smell of freshly baked cookies eerily emanating from an abandoned mental asylum. He is an amazing writer and incredible talent.