Despite no longer being associated with the Klan, Garret says he still thought very much like a racist. Until one day, over a dinner of baked chicken and fries, Garret’s beliefs about white supremacy were abruptly challenged.
At first, his landlord – a middle-aged Muslim man from Turkey named Himmet Özdemir who lived downstairs – asked Garret for some computer help. From there, Özdemir regularly hired Garret to fix his computer issues. He initially felt strange in the presence of this darker-skinned foreigner, Garret says. “But I needed the money.”
Özdemir eventually invited Garret to his house for dinner with his family. “I was still sitting there, waiting for him to fulfill all of the stereotypes. I was waiting for him to be that horrible Muslim,” Garret recalls. “It didn’t happen. He was just nice and compassionate.
“I felt so ashamed, wrong, stupid and small that I had been expecting him to show his real face, while he was showing his real face the whole time. That’s when I realized I had been wrong about everything.”
Desperate to move on from his racist past, Garret decided it was time to cover up the “skinhead” tattoo spanning his upper arm. He desperately looked for a tattoo artist that would cover up the provocative marking.
“These tattoo artists would tell me: ‘You need to know exactly what you want,’ or ‘We don’t know how much it’s going to cost,’” Garret says. “I just told them to put a block bob over it. I didn’t care.”
The solid black banner that sits atop the word “skinhead” on Garret’s left arm was his first cover-up tattoo. “It looks pretty horrible,” Garret says, looking down his shoulder. “But at the time, all I wanted was for someone to make it go away, to make it easy.”