++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++Just bringing out an old blog out of the woodwork for re-airing.
I never saw an African American person in the flesh until I was a teenager. I was a camp counselor and one of my charges was a little black girl. I found myself torn between trying not to be prejudicial one way or the other. But I didn’t know how to feel, how to be. Up to that point, I had only seen African Americans on television or saw them in pictures in a more patronizing way as poor and distant objects of missionary efforts.
It wasn’t that our farming community was racially segregated. It was just the way of things. There were Dutch, German, and smatterings of a few other European nationalities, but mostly Irish and English. I had things in my life that held absolutely no racial meaning for me, but now I wince to think of them. And my children tell all their friends (loving to make me…
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