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I believe I grew up in a 'strange place'. My best friend across the street was also named Debbie. I don't think I realized she was Black until we got to school. My school, as well as my little street, was pretty much 50-50 because I grew up in a 'big city' - OK, big for Connecticut. When I moved to a more suburban city just before high school, I suddenly noticed just how 'white' everything was. It annoyed me then, it still annoys me now.

Do I have any prejudices? Of course I do. I'm human. But I try to overcome them. Do I always succeed? No. Doesn't mean I won't stop trying. I never understood why someone's skin color/religion/economic status/size was supposed to affect the kind of person they are.

I'm second generation here. I sometimes wonder if that's why - my grandparents were 'shunned' because they didn't speak the language. My mother didn't learn English until she got into school; my dad as well. I still remember my sister-in-law telling me the only reason her father agreed to my brother marrying her was because our 'people weren't here during the War'. (She's from the South. You can guess which war he was talking about.) I never knew if it was really a joke or if he was serious. Maybe a little of both. I do know I never found it funny.

We all live here on this planet. To survive, we have to help each other. As Jane Elliott said, the only race is the Human Race. It's the one we need to make sure survives.

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