Growing Up in a Racist Community

Growing up in a racist community.
I grew up in a racist community. No, not everyone was racist, but a good majority were. I remember listening to them say that they’d shoot blacks …only they didn’t use that term… if they ever showed up on their street. That they didn’t want them around cause they didn’t want it to rub off on them. And isn’t that little ….baby… cute, but it’s a shame he’ll grow up. And that’s just a few of the things I heard. After I married, I planned to adopt, and when I announced that decision to everyone near, I kept hearing. Where are you going? And whispers that said..And make sure you know what you’re getting. Well, imagine their surprise when they found out he had arrived and he wasn’t ….gasp… white! Well, I knew what I was getting! 😉 And it didn’t take long, after several visits from ‘old friends’ who came empty handed, to answer the phone and say… he’s just maple color…. and hang up. I should have said to pass it on.

I’ve had lots more experiences since then, like the class reunion where only a couple of really close old classmates interacted with my kids, and of course, all the things that happen on a mostly daily basis for those with families like mine. I’ve had good experiences… mostly from the black community, who accepted us as we were. The worst from the religious right. And that’s speaking personally. My kids are the greatest kids around. They’ve traveled cross country to help me at the last minute…for extended periods on more than one occasion. They would do anything for me. And they’ve gone out of their way to help others, one even missing my mother’s funeral to help a woman and her three kids in a snowstorm instead. I don’t care if they all miss my funeral as long as they’re busy helping others at the time. And I’m REALLY tired of them being judged by the color of their skin and not by the content of their characters!