Over 35 years ago, I had a very significant conversation with a friend. I did not understand it as important at that time. But, I remembered it. I grew up in the south in the fifties and early sixties. The only black people that I knew were domestic employees in my home and in my friends’ homes. It seems like it was so long ago.
In 1970, I was a second year law student at the major college in the state. My class started out the previous year with 180 students. In that class were three black men, three white women, and 174 white men. The value of diversity had not yet been recognized.
One of the black students and I became friends. He was the first person of his race that I had ever known as a peer. He was very bright and I am fairly sure that he has had a successful career as a lawyer.
Both of us had part-time jobs in the evening at the student union on campus. It was a great job for a law student. It involved sitting in the student union office and being available to unlock doors, answer questions and sell an occasional magazine. The job was good in that you could spend 90% of the time studying.
One Saturday night, the black student’s association had a dance in the union ballroom. My friend and I sat just inside the door and took tickets. As the party got underway, I started feeling very strange. It was a feeling that I had never had before.
My colleague looked at me and said that it was obvious that I was uncomfortable with being outnumbered by all the people in the room. It had not occurred to me, but he was right. He then said that he also knew the feeling because he had felt it every day of his life. I never forgot the lesson that he had taught me.
My sons are black. They must feel like my friend did a lot of the time. Everywhere we go, they are the minority. We have taken a first step to alleviate this potential problem.
We have found a predominantly black church that is wonderful. We love the way black people worship. The music is out of this world and the pastor can really preach.
Several Sundays in a row, we had to really look around to find another white face. Nancy and I do not have any feelings of being out of place. The people have welcomed us with open arms. Our sons are getting a megadose of their culture. Did I mention the music?
Related Blogs:
Knowing Your Racial Heritage
Transracial Adoption, The Humorous Side