RACISM UNTAUGHT

First off, all my family and friends were spared Dorian but sadly the Bahamas were practically destroyed and N. Carolina was really roughed up.  I am sending what I can spare to help with the relief. Hoping all of you and yours were also spared.

Rerun from 2013. With all the thoughts of racism in the news. thought I would tell you of when I had to deal with it.

I am the daughter of white supremacists. No, not the skin head variety, but of people who definitely felt they were the superior race. My mother's side of the family came from slave holders. Two of the slaves, George and Julia remained with my family after the emancipation. Julia had been my mother's nanny and she and George both lived into their nineties but passed before I was born.

While my parents truly felt superior, they would never tolerate cruelty.  I never heard the "n" word. They were kindly but none the less, felt they were superior and that blacks were just not quite human. We were to treat the blacks as we would a farm animal. With kindness but to know they were not equals.  This was never spelled out for me till I was around 9 years old.

I never saw a black person up close and personal till the 3rd grade. It was a rural area in Ohio and our school was very small. There were 8 grades, approximately 10 kids per class and two classes per room. The Henry family moved into our area that year. There was almost one Henry child per class. We rode the same school bus and it was fun each morning as the bus had to wait while one Henry after another ran down the long hill towards the bus. You could just imagine a harried Mrs. Henry trying to get all 6 kids ready for school.

Henrietta, as I will call her, was in my class. I was fascinated with her for as I said, she was my first experience with blacks. I noticed she always kept to her self so one day, I took my jacks over to her and asked her to play.

Remember these---jacks.

She was blessed with a marvelous sense of humor, creativity and quickly became my favorite playmate. This only went on for less than a week when I was pulled aside by my classmates.

"My mother said I can't play with you anymore."  Mary Ann informed me as the rest of my friends bobbed their heads in agreement.

"Why" I asked totally stunned.

"Because you play with Henrietta." was the only explanation. " Unless you stop, we can't be friends." Again the heads bobbed in unison and they walked away.

I didn't know what to do so I brought the subject up at the family dinner that night. Race had not really been discussed in my presence till then. I was stunned when my parents agreed with my friends. I tried to explain how nice Henrietta was and that I liked her. She was just like me only with a better tan. They carefully drew the lines of behavior expected of me. One did not socialize with "them".

The next day, I walked up to Henrietta and sadly told her my decision. " I can't play with you any more," I said and told her of my friend's ultimatum.

Tears formed in her dark eyes and she only said," I thought you were different." and she walked away.

Henrietta and I never made up but from that day forward I carried a terrible burden. I tried to bridge the chasm many times with her but the hurt I caused would not allow it. The Henrys moved away before the year was out.

What it did do for me was to vow at that young age, never again to let others do my thinking for me, not even my parents. In the years to follow, I became a beloved thorn in my parents side. We never agreed on race relations but we continued to love each other. My guilt and disapproval of injustice drove me to actively promote tolerance. We fought many a verbal battle and they continued to shake their heads about their willful, misguided daughter.

Henrietta, where ever you are, I am so sorry, but I thank you for opening my eyes and heart.