Trevor Noah didn't "destroy" Tomi Lahren on The Daily Show. What he did was much better.

Well, I can tell you the wrong way for a black person to get attention in America:

1. Knocking people out:
youtube.com/watch?v=zjP39MS_GYk

2. Rioting and looting:
baltimoresun.com/news/maryland/baltimore-city/bs-md-ci-corrections-officers-looting-20150513-story.html

3. Standing in the middle of the road to block traffic in support of racist causes:
youtube.com/watch?v=hTL0gBcjNBc

4. Shooting a policeman doing his job:
louderwithcrowder.com/ambushes-police-assassinate-cop/

I think you get the idea...

Capt Jeff S. - You still have not answered the question- what is the right way? Please no deflection :)

Every answer I gave above involved violent crime and breaking the law. Well, you asked for the right way to get attention and you got my attention. I'm a little reluctant to give you an answer because it's probably going to get misconstrued and it's not one you want to hear. But seeing as twice you've asked about it, I'm just going to pull off the gloves and be brutally honest. This answer is going to be very long and in two parts. The first part is going to give you my background so that you know where I'm coming from. The second part is going to be the answer to your question.

BACKGROUND
This is coming from the perspective of a non-black, of German, Scotch-Irish, English/Welsh, and Russian ancestry. I am a 2nd generation American, whose great-grandparents fled the Bolsheviks in Russia and the slavery of communism. My great grandfather preceded my great grandmother and grandfather to the U.S. and worked in the factories in Chicago, saved up, bought a piece of land and built a house with his own hands on the city's Southwest Side. He then sent for them to come live in the house he built. They arrived in America in the 1920's when my grandfather was seven years old and became naturalized citizens. My other relatives came to America during the potato famines in Europe and came through Ellis Island and through Canada. They were all part of the wave of Immigration from Europe and settled in the Northern States AFTER the Civil War. In short, none of my relatives participated in the slave trade or owned slaves; they were all blue collar workers and most worked on the railroads or in the factories in and around Chicago. I was the second person in my family to get a college degree. My younger brother was the first and he is an electrical engineer and still resides in the Chicago area.

My father joined the Air Force and married my mother. I was born at Keesler AFB, in Mississippi, and my brother was born at Chanute AFB in Illinois. My father returned to Chicago after serving 4 years in the USAF, and that's where I grew up... on the Southwest side, near Midway Airport. The neighborhood I grew up in was mainly a mix of Polish, Irish, and Italian immigrants and they were all Catholic. I was one of the few Protestant children in the neighborhood, and there were no blacks near where I grew up. Most of the jokes I heard growing up weren't about Black people but rather, Polish people. And that's probably because the Poles fell to Hitlers Army and barely even put up a resistance, so they were the butt of a lot of jokes in my neighborhood. We didn't think of blacks much because we didn't see them very often.

That all changed when they started busing. Personally, I don't think it was a good thing. It created more problems than it solved. I'd see them standing at the bus stops shucking and jiving, wearing double-knit pants with converse tennis shoes and it seemed all they wanted to do is hang with each other and play basketball, which they'd play in their good pants. They didn't reach out to us or try to be friendly. In fact, quite the opposite. They seemed to hate us and they were loud and rude.

Now mind you, I'm just a kid growing up in the 60's and I had no prejudices put into me by my parents and I was simply assimilating information based on what I saw. I didn't see blacks in the neighborhood until I got into middle school. And when I saw them, they were dressed kind of strange and they acted like they were perpetually mad about something -- as if they had a chip on their shoulder. They all had these big afros, and black power combs stuck in their hair. They couldn't just walk, they had do lean to one side and shuck and jive. It was as if they were from another planet. They ALWAYS huddled together in big groups and you never saw them by themselves. If they were walking, they always walked in such a manner as to take up the entire sidewalk so that you would have to walk on the grass to go around them. No matter where it was they went, they would take over the space, whether it be the bus stop, street corner, spot at the local mall, etc. And they would talk really loudly -- as if everyone should be interested in hearing what they had to say, and what they'd say didn't make much sense to us. Don't get me wrong... We could understand them, but they just used a lot of filler words like "Yeah", "Uh huh", "Yo", and "What it be like" and forced phony laughter. They'd say a whole lot without saying much of anything. Then they'd look around to see who was looking at them and scowl at the white people and give them the stink-eye: "Wha-chu lookin' at White Boy?!!" They'd give each other high fives but not with the palms; it was back of their hand to the back of their hand because their palms were white. Couldn't have that...

The public high school, next to my middle school, had a pool and none of them knew how to swim. And they smeared smelly stuff in their hair and all over their skin and when they jumped in the pool, the water got nasty. There was a rainbow sheen on the surface of the water from all the oils coming off their bodies, and it left a waxy ring around the edge of the pool that was hard to get off. We suspected they were peeing in the pool as well. For those swimming there, you really didn't want to swallow the water.

When they'd fight, it was never one versus one, it was always a group of them beating up some white person or persons but they never fought a fair fight. They threw one kid through the second story window at the high school, and I heard stories about them taking forks in the lunch room and stabbing people with them. The people in my neighborhood had had enough and we wanted the busing stopped. The test scores dropped in the school and we were being used to try to bring them up and all it did was bring everyone else down.

My parents sent me to a Private High School because the public school system was getting pretty bad and it being the '70's there were a lot of drugs going around. I didn't want to go to the suburbs to high school, but they didn't give me that choice. I suppose I could have purposely flunked out but that would have really got them upset so I sucked it up and dealt with it. The suburban high school I went to was mostly rich kids the majority of whom were Dutch. Many of the kids drove cars to school and didn't have to take the bus. My parents worked hard to afford the tuition, and they couldn't provide me with a car. I had to ride 70 min one way on the school bus just to get to school. Some of the Dutch kids poked fun at me because I was from the city and because I wasn't Dutch. They would say, "If you're not Dutch, you're not much." The Dutch community is very tight. They all go to Christian Reformed churches and they tend to keep their money circulating amongst their little Dutch community within a community. Most of the kids' parents owned businesses or were wealthy lawyers, politicians, etc. So I didn't fit the mold. I didn't have a real strong Christian upbringing and didn't know all the Bible stories. I did terrible in Bible class, and the girls didn't want to date me because I saw me as worldly and too low class for them.

When I got into sports, that changed, and I started making friends. But I couldn't see them because they lived too far away. I was on the cross-country, track and wrestling teams. Was too short for basketball and sucked at it anyway. During the winter of my sophomore year, I wrestled against a black kid and he was bigger and a lot stronger than me. He liked to dance all over the mat and tried to outspeed and muscle me, but he made a mistake and I got lucky and pinned him. This was a home meet and after that, the girls started taking an interest in me. The next year, we wrestled at his school and he pinned me. But my record was about even in wrestling and won about as many as I lost against both black and white kids. I felt neither superior nor inferior to anyone and just gave it my best when I got out there.

I didn't have a car till after I graduated high school and started working, and I have worked for everything I have received in life. Nothing was handed to me because I was white. I joined the military so that I wouldn't have to lean on my parents for college money. And it's just something that in my family we did. My grandfather (Army), step-grandfather (Air Force), two uncles (Navy, Marines), and father (Air Force) all did time in the military and it was our patriotic service.

Before joining the military, I was pulled over in a black neighborhood by black police who wanted to know what I and my friends were doing there and I had my car searched. A crowd immediately gathered around and they all wanted to see us get busted. I had a case of beer in the trunk (We were of legal age to drink beer which was 18 back then) and they couldn't get us for that. Would you say we were racially profiled? Were my Constitutional rights violated? We just did what the cops asked, didn't give them a hard time, and after running a check on my plates, they let us go. Had any of us mouthed off or got disrespectful with the cops, things would have gone downhill real fast.

The day I joined the military I was walking on South State Street looking for a phone booth to call my girlfriend one last time... and when I was on the phone, a black guy kept motioning me like he wanted to make a phone call so I got off the phone and he apologized for rushing me off the phone and wanted to know if he could buy dope from me. The city had just had a major drug bust and I guess pot was in short supply. He figured what would a white guy be doing in a black neighborhood except to sell drugs. I told him I didn't know where to get any and he thought I was just blowing him off so he flashed a couple hundred dollar bills in front of my face to let me know he was serious and could pay. I repeated that I didn't know where he could get any and explained that there was a big drug bust and that's probably why nobody had it. And I explained to him that I was just there to make a phone call to my girlfriend because the place had a pay phone. [Yeah, that's what we had before the advent of cell phones...] When I dealt with blacks, I never talked down to them, nor did I talk up to them. I was just straight up as I am being straight with you.

When I joined the military, I was a little bit prejudiced against blacks, and it was because of the way they acted. My prejudice had nothing to do with the color of their skin. I simply didn't much care to be around them, because of what I experienced growing up. So if you think whites like myself hate you simply because of the color of your skin, you are mistaken. You want to blame whites for being prejudiced against your skin color when it's your attitudes, violent behavior, and gangsta culture that is the reason many whites aren't interested in associating with you.

So does my background make me a white supremacist redneck bigot now that I live in the South? Did I live a life of White Privilege? Do I owe blacks reparations because of what other whites AND BLACKS did to them? Apparently, some think I do... and they have this notion that I have no idea what it's like to be black, and they're right. I don't. But from my experience growing up, I do understand prejudice and I've seen it go both ways.

Part 2 to follow...

Capt Jeff S. - Looking forward to part 2 in all honesty. I would say an interesting bit of history about yourself and it shiws alot. It shows how a person's background and experiences can shape and mold them, it shows the internal and external forces which look to guide them and it shows the struggles of many from the eyes of one.

You can never really know the true nature of a person until you walk a mile in his/her shoes no matter the color, ethnic background, religion, etc and to try and do so still requires a level of understanding and self awareness many of us do not have or want to have.

With that said, you gave examples of how not to get attention and not what the proper manner to do so is. The answer is not so black and white, thus my initial retort to you.

Violence is never the answer and no excuse, but it can be born out of frustration for not being heard in the first place. We as humans tend to be like that sometimes.