The Personal Side of Bias, Prejudice, and Oppression

       When I was a child, maybe first or second grade, I became friends with a girl of a different race. There were not many African-Americans in our small Georgia town and they were mostly friends with one another. This girl and I sat near one another in our class and quickly became friends. We played on the playground together and ate lunch together in the cafeteria every day. It never occurred to me that this was not acceptable to my peers. At some point, I became aware of stares and whispers from other children and eventually from their parents. I can only assume that the other children had told their parents that I was friends with her and they did not approve. In that moment, as a six or seven year old child, I had to make a decision as to whether or not I cared what they thought. I decided I did not. I distinctly remember standing in the school hallway with its green walls and brown carpet with my friend. Another child asked me "Why are you friends with her? She's black!" Well, I have always been blessed with a vicious attitude even at age 6, so I yelled "SHUT-UP!" at the other girl. I promptly got in trouble with the teacher. I still didn't care. 

                                                        

      I do not think that in that moment I changed anyone's mind or effected any great social change, but I stood up for myself and for my friend. In that moment, I maintained my own standards for what was right regardless of what anyone else thought. I don't recall if the teacher called my parents over the incident, but I do not recall getting into trouble with them for it. If she did call, they certainly didn't feel like it was worth addressing. As I grew older, I realized there were many occurrences when I was reprimanded by school administration that my parents never felt the need to address with me. I suppose they did not feel as though it was a wise expenditure of their time!