Now I am looking around at my life, and I realized I don’t have any black friends. I have known friends of friends, but no one that I would consider “my friend.” I even mentioned this to one of my girlfriends and she laughed, she thought I was being funny. I was being serious.
I raised my children without knowledge of the term “black.” When they were young, we were living in
It wasn’t until we live in
Since then I have, and still do, speak out. At this point however, I would like to know more about racism on a deeper more personal level. I hope to better understand someday. And by understand, I mean, like, when you talk to a friend and over time you just tell it the way it is. You don’t try to prove anything, or try to be perfect, or politically correct, just the real deal. You talk it over together, and eventually you both understand each other. That is what I am missing in my conversations. I am guessing I am not alone.