When we think of bigotry, we tend to recall the pictures and videos of groups of white policemen attacking black marchers on their way to Selma, Alabama, or Klu Klux Klan marches through the streets of sleepy towns, or protesters with placards decrying Mexican immigrants, or Japanese Americans being herded into internment camps after Pearl Harbor. We tend to believe that bigotry only expresses itself on the grand scale, and that those who make up such groups that perpetrate and perpetuate it are somehow less influential, less offensive in their individuality, where they can be safely ignored.
We also believe that bigotry only really expresses itself through large differences in people, like race or religion or sexual orientation, but we would be mistaken. Bigotry is any form of intolerance of prejudice or discrimination; it is the manifest extension of an ancient survival instinct, which tells us to be cautious around, or frightened of, anything or anyone that is superficially different than us. This instinct, millions of years in the making, resident in the corridors of our primitive brain, still holds sway, a siren call to the cerebral cortex, reminding it to remain cautious and exaggerating the differences between people to make discrimination easier. In its best form, it makes us wary in situations where we are unfamiliar; in its worst form, it creates paranoia.