I was a very little girl during the 1960s, so I wasn't exposed to whole lot of racial tension. Except in the 5th grade at Superior Street Elementary School, I had a black classmate who could run track like the wind! I heard someone say, “the Willis boy” ought to be with his own kind, but I didn’t know it was a racist remark. I thought they meant he ought to be with people who could run track as fast as he could, because our school team wasn't very good.
I admit my middle-class white family was unusual. After all, for a while, my twice-divorced Grandma dated a very tall black man I only remember as “Mr. Harrison.” He sounded like James Earl Jones, drove a Porsche, and hid boxes of Nabisco Snap Cookies in his suits pockets for us to find.
So it wasn’t until I was in junior high school that I learned that some white people didn’t want black people to drink from the same water fountain, or go to the same schools. I remember thinking, “Sometimes grownups are really stupid.”
Funny, that’s the same reaction I get now from teenagers as they try to figure out abortion laws that don’t make sense.