My parents taught me from the beginning to treat all people the same. If that person earns your mistrust, fine. But don’t automatically judge people by the way they look.
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My parents taught me from the beginning to treat all people the same. If that person earns your mistrust, fine. But don’t automatically judge people by the way they look.
My mother taught in a school district where most students were Hispanic or black. She brought many of those kids home to our house for a couple of hours on weekends to play with me and my brothers. For most, it was the first time they had been out of their neighborhoods.
I didn’t care. I just enjoyed playing with other kids.
Hate is something that you learn. Racism is something that you learn. I never learned those things as a kid, and that has carried into my life as an adult. Of course, the same can’t be said of everyone. (Lest anyone think differently, I am not trying to say I am perfect. Far from it).
I remember when I was stationed in Arkansas in the Air Force. I played music on weekends with some guys, including a black drummer named Roy. I remember every time we walked into a store, employees would keep an eye on Roy, often following him around – although trying to be stealthy about it.
I finally brought it up to him and Roy said that was just a fact of life for him. As a black man, he was always a suspect in the eyes of many people. That made me crushingly sad and incredibly angry.