How My Swimming Pool Party Became a Civil Rights Lesson
75My Black Friends Are Denied Admission To My Pool Party
In the summer of 1962 I was still blissfully unaware of the Civil Rights Movement and Civil Rights Laws. Martin Luther King hadn't given his famous, "I Have a Dream Speech" yet, there had been no racial riots in the northeast and the only thing I had on my mind was the fun I was going to have at the pool party that my parents were giving for my 10th birthday. They had rented the pool in the garden apartment complex that we lived in and my entire class was coming to my evening party. Talk about feeling grown up! The party was starting at 7PM and rock and roll music was already blaring from our portable record player so kids could dance if they wanted to. Mom had gone back to the apartment for some more party food leaving me to greet my guests.
The lifeguard, affectionately known as Uncle Hal even though he wasn't a blood relative, was waving the kids through the pool gate until Teddy and June showed up with their mothers. Even from the far side of the pool I could sense that something was wrong and went over to Uncle Hal to let him know they were my invited guests.
In a stern voice I'd never heard him use before Uncle Hal said, "We have a situation here and you need to get your mother right now so we can straighten it out." I suddenly realized that the situation he was talking about was the fact that my dear friends were black and that he wasn't going to admit them to the party. The expressions on their mothers' faces, a mixture of empathic pain for their humiliated children along with anger, fear and mortification confirmed my instincts. I told them I'd be right back and ran home to get Mom.
Mom Won't Tolerate Racial Discrimination
I was shaking by the time I reached the apartment and my words came out in a jumbled rush. "There's a problem, Mom. Uncle Hal said he needs you to come right now and I don't think he's going to let Teddy and June into the party."
Mom was president of the PTA and knew Teddy and June were black. Unbeknown-st to me at the time, both mothers had been assured by my Mom that their kids were welcome and would be allowed entrance as this was a private party.
Mom could tell I was upset and said everything would be okay. When we got back to the pool Teddy, June and their mothers were standing in the parking lot over by themselves and I felt really bad that the other 20 kids in my class were at the pool having fun while they had to stay on the sidelines.
Uncle Hal and the superintendent of the apartments were standing guard by the pool entrance. The superintendent was my best friend, Laney's, father and he was usually very kind and gentle with kids so the stern expression that I now saw on his face distressed me even more than Uncle Hal's scowl. Despite the intense heat, I felt chills run down my spine and doubted that Mom would be able to fix the situation.
Mom Stands Up For My Black Friends' Civil Rights
Teddy and June's mothers tried to let Mom off the hook by offering to leave in order to avoid a scene, but Mom wouldn't hear of their leaving and told them to give her a few minutes to straighten things out. She then went over to Uncle Hal and the Super and the three of them went into the pool house for a private conversation.
After several awkward moments Mom emerged victorious and Teddy and June were allowed into the party. Unfortunately, my best friend, Laney, had to leave the party because her Dad wouldn't let her stay which made me feel really bad for her.
But after she was gone a few minutes I, like everyone else at the party, got caught up in the games Mom had planned and for the rest of the night I had a great time.
Mom Teaches Me What Civil Rights Laws Mean
The next day Mom explained to me that Uncle Hal and the Super had feared the other residents of the apartments would complain if they had let black children use the pool. They felt it was their job and their duty to keep the black children out and that they might even be fired if they let Teddy and June into the pool.
Mom was petite and beautiful but she could be as fiery as a preacher giving a gates of hell sermon when she got all fired up about a cause. She was passionate about racial injustice and she'd told Uncle Hal and the Super that denying innocent black children access to a private pool party would not only be wrong and immoral, but it would also be illegal. Then she'd pointed her index finger at them and threatened to sue the entire apartment complex if they didn't back down and let my friends in. They both knew she was a legal secretary and had access to free legal services and they decided it was safer to back down and face the possible complaints of residents than to risk getting sued.
Mom ended her Civil Rights lesson by telling me, "Prejudice is hurtful and wrong especially when it's aimed at children. We can't stop people from feeling prejudice but we can stand up and prevent them from acting on those feelings. The laws in our country are currently being challenged and are gradually changing to protect the Civil Rights of black people and all good citizens need to use the power of the law to come forward and make sure that discrimination is no longer practiced."
It was a powerful lesson to learn at such a young age, but she'd shown me by her gutsy actions that a single person taking a strong stand can make a difference, especially when the law is behind them.
Uncle Hal and the Super's fears of getting fired turned out to be unfounded. Not a single resident lodged a complaint about black children coming to the party.
To their credit both men continued to treat me as well as they had before this incident occurred and Laney was still allowed to play with me.
The Civil Rights Movement Turns Violent After Martin Luther King's Death
Six years later, in the bloody aftermath of Martin Luther King's death, riots broke out all across the country in cities like ours (Paterson, NJ). My lesson in prejudice had come full circle and I was now filled with racial fear.
Tensions were high at my predominantly black inner city high school and the police were called in to prevent an after school riot. I told my Mom I was terrified of going back to East Side High School because the black kids were threatening to kill the white kids and the teachers were as scared as the kids. I begged her to try to find an apartment in the suburbs so we would be safe. Though Mom let me stay home for a week, she believed things would cool down and it would be wrong to move out of the city.
Unfortunately things got worse and when four black teens surrounded my 12 year old brother and severely beat him because of the color of his skin, Mom finally realized we needed to move out into the suburbs as so many other white families were doing.
There is still sadness in my heart when I hear of hate crimes and episodes of racial violence. And an aftermath of almost getting caught up in a riot is that I still fear being in crowds that are agitated, such as highly vocal, shouting protesters, even if I agree with the cause they are promoting. I'm not proud of that fact, but it's the truth. And so I limit my protest to correspondence with my senators and congressmen and my power to vote. And I try to treat people of all races and religions with kindness and respect which I believe is the only way prejudice will ever really end.
An Essay I Wrote in 1998 Marking The 30th Anniversary of Martin Luther King's Assassination
There is one day in my Eastside High School experience that stands out among all the others. It is the day after Martin Luther King's assassination. The assassination seems to light the fuse of racial tension and tempers are ready to explode into outright violence. In the hallways of Eastside, black kids are cursing at us white kids. They are calling us murderers, banging on desktops, threatening to get revenge by killing us. I felt like a sitting duck target for hundreds of years worth of racial anger and grievances. I didn't understand what was happening. They were acting as if each white kid in the school had personally killed Dr. King and they wanted to lynch us on the spot. I was totally unprepared for the backlash of rage that followed Dr. King's death. In my naivety, I had expected grief and mourning as had been the case after John F. Kennedy and Bobby Kennedy's assassinations.
As the school day continued, the tension grew. Rumors started that the school was surrounded by an angry mob with bats, chains, knives and other weapons and we were locked inside the building. When the school bell finally rings, I am beyond fear and into terror. It is approximately a 5 block walk through inner city ghetto streets from the school to my bus stop. It's a nasty walk on an average day, but on this day it's a terrifying walk. We are being herded through the streets by policemen who seem to be everywhere. "Keep moving," they shout, "Everybody just keep moving."
Police cars are parked at half block intervals and at every corner so we don't have to stop for regular traffic. For once the kids, white and black, are relatively quiet as we're herded through the streets. Do the police have their dogs to keep us in line? I honestly can't remember because I was too afraid to look at them. Are their batons ready to whack us if we don't move as they say? I honestly don't remember. My head is bowed and I am looking at my feet as I walk and I am praying that everyone does as the cops say so there won't be a racial riot with me and my friends caught in the middle of it.
My friends and I hold hands tightly- Richie, my white childhood friend from elementary school days is on my right, and Teddy, my black childhood friend is on my left. They are probably as scared as I am, but they have acted as my protectors, sandwiching me between them and holding my books for me in their other hands. When we get to the public bus stop we finally have to stand still and wait for the bus. Now there is a lot of pushing and shoving with kids trying to make sure they get on the bus. I think I barely make it onto the second bus that stops with Richie and Teddy literally dragging me on and pulling and pushing me inside. We are packed onto the bus like sardines in a tin can but it feels much safer than being herded through the streets. When I get home I never want to see Eastside High again.
I lost my last vestiges of childhood innocence that day and learned first hand about hatred, fear and prejudice. Along with the fear a feeling of sadness and grief still haunts me. I recently watched documentaries of the Little Rock 9 (the first forced, court integration of 9 black children into a Little Rock, AK high school) and cried and cried. Uncontrollable gut wrenching sobs were coming from me as I watched original film clips of the angry white mob outside the schoolhouse taunting, cursing, spitting and trying to block the 9 black children from entering the previously all white school. Police were trying to maintain control and barely able to. I once again saw the angry face of racial hatred and it was as ugly and scary on the white faces as it had been on the black faces that had been venting their rage on me. The Little Rock 9 were incredibly brave, but how sad it is to be a child having to face down threats of violence and having to endure verbal abuse, pushing, and shoving just to get an education.
Martin Luther King had a dream. A dream that all children, black and white, rich and poor, protestant and catholic, Jew and gentile alike could live together in a promised land of freedom, peace and love. How heavenly a dream this seems to me and I pray with all my heart that some day it will come to be a reality. As we mark the 30 year anniversary of his assassination I remember my young black friend, Teddy. Prejudice reared its ugly head when we were 10 and the lifeguard at my white apartment complex tried to block his entrance to my birthday pool party. That was my first exposure to racial prejudice and the day after Martin Luther King's assassination was my second. In the confusion and hatred that surrounded us on that terrifying day outside Eastside High School, we joined hands, white with black, united in friendship, trying to survive in a world of racial fear, anger and hate. The summer after the assassination my family moved out of the city and I never saw my friend again. But I remember his beautiful black face. It is the face of friendship and caring and it is childhood friendships like ours that have the most promise for bringing Dr. King's dreams into reality. For only as we truly get to know and accept each other will the face of racial hatred and fear be replaced by the face of friendship and love for each other.
The Day I Interviewed Delaware Civil Rights Icon Littleton Mitchell
The following is a link to an essay I wrote for fellow hubber, Danette Watt's, Great Minds Speak website. The article is titled, "An Interview With Littleton Mitchell Helps Me Understand How Jim Crow Laws Impacted Blacks."
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Thanks for your insightful comment Vietnamvet.
Yes, I agree with you.
In your book, "A Boy in a Hurry For Manhood to Arrive," I noticed how sensitive you were to the poor treatment of the blacks who were too often singled out for harsh treatment. Thanks for pointing that injustice out.
God bless you my friend, for your compassion and determination to shed light where's there's darkness, such as to the pain of war for all concerned, especially the innocent child victims.
What a tough thing for people to go through. Sometimes the good old days were not so good. Hip Hip Hooray for your mom!
Hi ghomefitness,
I second the Hip Hip Hooray for my mom. She was really awesome that night and a great role model.
Yes the good old days of the 50's and even the early 60's weren't always jolly. Minorities, including women, had a tough path.
Thanks for taking time to read my hub and provide feedback.
Growing up in Louisville, Kentucky in the 70's, I was faced with busing in my 6th grade year. At that time public schools sent the 'county kids' to the city two non-consecutive years, between Kindergarten and Twelfth grade ~ and the 'city kids' to the county.
It was a program thought to encourage, by force ~ pride, concern and tax dollars into the inner city of Louisville, while at the same time giving inner city children the same opportunities as the county kids... thereby forcing parents of the county kids to improve on inner city education.
It was my only experience with any talk of prejudices and racism. My mother had no other choice than to send us into the city school. She could not afford anything but the public school system.
It was a scary time for me, completely out of my comfort zone. A place where corporal punishment was not only practiced, often and rashly, but joked about. A place where guards walked the halls and the cafeteria with guns in their holsters. A place which sat directly across the street from a strip club.
In retrospect, it was also the place where I met my good friend Robert, an inner city kid. A kid with more courage and self-respect than any other I had known. Though his skin color was the same as mine, his life experiences were far different.
I look back on this time of unrest, for it was a hotly debated topic of the times in my state, as one of those life experiences that I am thankful for. I rode the hour drive home every afternoon to sleep on a safer street, in a more comfortable bed, in a modest yet more privileged part of town ~ but, it is what I took with me that changed my perspective. Humility for starters and the understanding that we are all the same, regardless of skin color or sex or geography.
Thank you, Happyboomer, for reminding me of that most important lesson. ~Scarlett
Dear Scarlett,
I hope you write a hub about your busing experiences in the 1970's because it looks like you could easily do so with compassion and wisdom.
Busing, of course, was not a solution. It only served to "punish" more innocent children by placing them in substandard schools without achieving the stated goal of forcing improvements in the condition of those schools.
NO children, no matter how poor their parents are or what their race or religion is, should have to go to schools where fear is the predominent feeling and where quality, capable teachers and administrators are lacking, and where the physical building is literally falling apart and educational supplies are sorely lacking.
Like you, I too came out of my 2 years at an inner city high school with a much deeper understanding of what poor children had to endure and how hard it is to rise above poverty. For how can you learn when you're living in constant fear? I was blessed that my elementary school education was excellent and had already given me a solid foundation but a lot of the students had been in substandard schools their entire lives.
Thank you for adding to my hub by taking it into the busing decade of the 1970's.
A sad birthday, I'd say. Racism is really primitive and evil. Your story reminds me of a great film I saw with Edward Norton (American History X) although the ending is much more dramatic than ''the end'' of your story. I love the fact of such beautiful diversity in race, nation, languages and cultures. I believe it only makes us and our planet rich. Too bad, this is not true for the hearts of many people. What's more tragic there are people who still hold the racist views from the past :-( Awful! Nice to have read about your experience though.
Yes, discrimination rears its ugly head. It is still alive and well as ageism now in the work place. Sad but true. Great hub.
Welcome Vox Vocis,
Yes, it was a sad birthday in the sense that it was my first awareness of racial discrimination which, in 1962, was more subtle in the northeast as compared to the southern states of America where actual signs read, "For Whites Only." It was also sad not to be able to celebrate my birthday with my best friend, Laney, who ironically became the child who was forced to leave the party. But I rejoice in the fact that my mother was trying to teach me love and tolerance instead of fear and prejudice.
Your love of diversity was beautifully apparent in your hub, "Human & Civil Rights: Violation & Protection of Individ. & Collective Rights," which taught me a lot about how other countries view and legislate the use of different languages. In America, that is currently a very hotly debated topic as many feel only English should be spoken.
Thanks for taking time to read and comment on my hub.
Hi BobbiRant,
I always look forward to reading your comments as they come at a situation from an angle I usually haven't thought of. Yes, ageism is a rampant form of discrimination in America right now and I fear it will get worse if the economy doesn't get better.
Thanks for taking time to leave a comment. Your sharp brain and fiesty spirit are proof that those of us who are getting older are still a force to be reconned with. (smile)
Gail, this is an awesome hub. I voted it 'up' and a/b What a powerful lesson you learned from your mother. This is very inspiring. Thanks for sharing. You write so beautifully.
Hi Denise,
Thanks so much for the positive review. I really appreciate the tremendous support you've given me since my first attempts at writing here and as you know, I learn from and am inspired by your own hubs.
God bless you my friend.
Nurse, this article has helped me to build on a relatively new foundation of knowledge I did not grow up with. I grew up very, very sheltered, and my mother and grandmother never ever talked about things like this. Not the war, not racism, politics, nothing. My mother still does not. I know a lot about the prejudice going on today, but little about the past. Articles like these enrich me and help me to better understand such things that are so, so important to understand.
Thank you very much for your hub. And one thousand plus ups to your mother. She is a true champion.
Dear Ladyface,
Your comment really touched me because my hope in writing this article was to help promote understanding about prejudice and what it was like in the past. Understanding the past does shed light on the present, but topics like race, prejudice and hatred are difficult to talk about. Even today, emotions can run high and it's easy for people to misunderstand what's being said and take offense.
Your mother and grandmother were probably raised not to talk about these things because it wasn't socially acceptable or ladylike to discuss them in public.
My mother was very outspoken at a time when most others weren't and I admire her for that and am blessed that she didn't raise me to be prejudiced.
Thanks so much for taking time to write your comment. It really warmed my heart.
Thanks so much for writing this memoir. I was raised in the same era.. born in '52, and remember racial tensions, mainly in East Oakland (California) where my grandmother lived. I admire your mother's fortitude in standing for what was right. Even today prejudice is far too common.
Hi LindaJM,
We are all partially formed by the time period we grow up in. Yes, there were some tense times during the Civil Rights era and unfortunately prejudice is still too common.
Your feedback is greatly appreciated and I'm glad you found this memoir hub interesting.
Great hub, and a reminder that there is yet much work to be done.
Yours is such a sad, yet powerful and moving story. Yes, one person can often make a difference, but not always.
The sad part is that predjudice is not a natural emotion we are born with--it is taught--and that is the sad and disgraceful part.
I grew up in San Francisco, CA, which was always very 'mixed,' and had a much more liberal live-and-let-live political climate. We had a few minor disturbances, but nothing like the Watts riots in Los Angeles.
The high school I went to was brand new the year I entered; the juniors and seniors had been pulled from other schools to make up a full student body.(SF at the time had a 3-year high school system, so you began as a sophomore.) The trouble we had was mostly from kids angry at being uprooted out of the schools from which they had expected to graduate (which included 2 arch-rival schools).
This new school did pull a large percentage of its student body from a nearby predominantly black neighborhood, and some tension ensued, but no rioting. I had both black and white friends, and no one thought anything about it.
At the first sign of tension, the Dean of Boys called a meeting of all the boys in the school. As they filed into the auditorium and took their seats, he took the stage and the first thing he said was, "If I had gotten up here and indicated different sides of the theater, saying, 'blacks sit over here, and whites sit over there,' you'd all have been angry, right?"
There was a loud chorus of "Yeah! Right! For Sure!" When that hubub had settled down, he pointed out, "Well, look at yourselves--that's exactly how you ARE sitting!"
I don't know what else was said after that, but things settled down just fine, and there really were no further incidents while I was a student there.
I consider myself fortunate to have been raised in such a tolerant city, and I do not judge anyone based on color--only by their behavior.
Thanks for sharing your story--the more such stories are shared, hopefully, the better people will understand that we are all human, and skin color is no indicator of who you are as a person.
Your Mom is wonderful. You are wonderful to recount this story to us - this is recent history and a history lesson we must remember.
It is through these events that we all learn and grow.
I grew up in an environment where comments I heard as a little kid made me fear black people. When I finally got to public school (in fourth grade) I had my first experience with mixed races. I was totally intimidated by the black kids having been lead to believe they were going to get me if they could. I made the football team right at the beginning of the school year, and I was about to find out how bad it was going to be.
So on the first day of practice, I kept waiting for one of the black kids to get me.
No one did.
Nor did anyone on the second day. Or the third.
Slowly it began to creep into my thick, indoctrinated skull as I played day after day with these guys that there was nothing going to happen. In fact, the only F-ing jerk on the team was another white kid who did his best to make my life miserable.
In fourth grade, it's difficult to process when things coming from the adults around you are not matching the realities that you are experiencing in person. But I figured it out pretty quick. I still wince at some of the comments certain people in the family make, and I know I'll never change them regardless of what I say. But, that generation is fading into history, and I think most of that crap is just going to fade out with them. Let's hope so.
I am humbled, heartened and inspired by the thoughtful responses to this hub.
DzyMsLizzy: The Dean of Boys took a proactive stance and treated all the boys, regardless of race equally. Wish there had been a videorecording of exactly what else he said when everyone was gathered into the auditorium. It was a stroke of genius to point out that the students had segregated themselves and also point out that if they'd all been required and forced to sit separately everyone's anger would have been inflamed! As things settled down afterwards, it seemed like the Dean's singular, take control action did make a difference to the atmosphere in the whole school. Thanks for sharing your experience in an era of forced integration. Perhaps you will write a hub about it?
GmaGoldie: Thanks for using the word "recent" in front of history. I felt immediately younger when I read it! (smile). Yes, Mom was wonderful that day and I'm glad that sharing this story seems to have struck a chord of admiration and positive response that I did not expect while writing it. I hoped it would be so, but didn't know that people would have such compassionate, admirable things to say. Thanks for leaving feedback.
Shadesbreath: I hope you, too, write a hub about your unique experience which was so heartwarming to read. The fears and prejucices that the adults at home and in your extended family were trying to pass down to you were over-ridden by your actual experiences with the blacks in your school. Even at such a young age you were able to tell who the real jerk was and it had nothing to do with the color of that person's skin. Just their poor attitude and nasty temperament. Bravo to you for making up your own mind about racial differences and tolerance and accepting people for the quality of their characters and individual actions. I don't know of many children who have the strength of character to buck what the significant adults in their life have taught them. I too, hope that things will continue to get better in the future but sometimes it feels like we're falling backwards instead of forwards. That's why it's so great to be reading comments like yours which are filled with promise and hope that perhaps our children will end up being the wisest people on the planet.
Prejudice is definitely taught. The color of a person's skin has nothing to do with his or her character or intelligence or what they will make of their lives.
My niece once went to a private Christian school and for her birthday party one year she invited friends from her class and some friends from the neighborhood to be her guests at a roller skating rink party. One of her classmates was a nice little black girl and that girl's mother accompanied her daughter to the skating rink. My mother and I were also there to chaparone and provide the cake and other goodies.
It was sad to see how that little girl was shunned by the white "neighborhood" girls. It was an eye opener for my niece who would never have given that any thought and definitely spurred discussions afterwards with her.
That little black girl's mother was the only other adult besides my mother and me who stayed there the entire time. Perhaps she had experienced racism or discrimination in the past and wanted to make sure that her daughter did not suffer the same treatment?
We had a wonderful time visiting with her mother but at the same time it was easy to see the lines of division between the children who were all there in a playful setting. Very sad!!! The neighborhood girls made no effort at all to interact with that girl whereas they seemingly were friendly to the other school girls who matched their skin tone.
We were sorry that particular private school only went through the 5th grade at the time. They had all races there and beautifully blended Christian ideals with regular schoolwork.
Prior to being married I lived in the nurse's dorm in the Texas Medical Center. We had nurses from every corner of the world living there. It was like the United Nations and was wonderful.
If people simply get to know one another pigmentation of the skin is meaningless. Good hub!
Thanks Peggy,
As usual, your thoughtful comment has added a meaningful story to enhance me hub. It is sad that the little black girl was so obviously shunned and must have been painful for you to watch, but I'm glad your niece didn't feel that way about people of other backgrounds.
Your nurse's dorm in Texas sounds awesome. Have you written any hubs about that experience?
No and for years now the physical building has been gone. There was actually ground parking back in 1969 and the early 70's that has long ago been replaced with high rise parking garages. Many of the workers in the Medical Center park on outlying lots with shuttles that take them back and forth.
You have another great humanitarian piece and everyone is flocking to read it! I enjoyed it immensely and it touched my heart. I worked in inner city school for 3 years which was 80 percent African Amercan and most everyone else was Mexican and white. I also saw the same kind of predjudice against the mentally impaired and handicapped which is even a sadder discourse.A chat with Mrs. Hausley has the same theme and will break your heart. Get out your hanky for that one coming soon! I tried Face book for two weeks and it was a waste of time. Just 3 days into it and Hubbing is becoming my thing! RJ
Thanks so much for the kind words, RJ.
So glad you are enjoying your Hubtivity! You're off to a great start and once fellow hubbers "discover" your work, I predict you'll quickly attract many followers.
The things I love most about hubbing are the exchange of ideas, the instant feedback and the amazing support and encouragement of fellow hubbers. It's truly gratifying, and humbling, to realize that people are thoughtfully reading your work and are touched by it.
I have my hanky ready for "A Chat with Mrs. Hausley." I love a good cry when there's substance to a story.
It's an honor to read such amazing and powerful recollections of your past. This happened before my time and yet I find it fascinating that you were able to recall your experience so vividly. It certainly was a defining moment in your life and the empact it had on you is more proof as to the amazing person you are. Your amazing mother was no doubt a powerful influence, what a blessing. Thank you for sharing. Love, Peace and JOY! :)
Hi Katie,
It was a defining moment that got etched into my memory and when I became an adult Mom and I talked about it in detail and she filled me in on exactly what she'd said behind closed doors.
Thanks so much for your kind words about my Mom and me, and this hub. It was cathartic writing it and I've been so humbled by the comments of our fellow hubbers who have been adding powerful, amazing stories of their own. Thanks so much for your support and input. It means a lot to me.
Wow, I am overwhelmed by your stories here. I was glued to every word start to finish. This is an incredible hub, and I can't rate it up enough. Thank you very much for sharing your actual stories, which give an angle into the realities of that time frame, without distortion. What interesting perspectives to have seen it from both sides. It was horrifying to hear about your friends that couldn't enter the pool party at first, and why.
I was born and raised in Southern California a bit after all of this, so I personally missed a lot of it, though I heard a lot. However, when I went to college in Georgia, it was a different story, and it felt like stepping back in time. I don't agree with a lot of Californians on a lot of things, but that they were fairly ahead of the game on this was a great thing.
I could go on and on but I just want to say thank God for people like you and your mother and others that are like that as well. Thank you again for your stories, it really gets one thinking.
Dear Oceansnsunsets,
Yours is the first comment I've received since adding the 1998 essay about Martin Luther King less than 24 hours ago. I wasn't sure if the essay made this hub too long and intense but it felt like it belonged so I'm glad that you said you were glued to every word start to finish. That was the confirmation I needed that the essay does indeed, belong here.
Thanks too, for sharing some of your own experiences in your comment. History is a living breathing thing which has as many viewpoints as those who lived it. That's why I believe eyewitness accounts are the most effective way to teach it. This was a difficult story to write and share, but I've been overwhelmed (in a good way) by the heartfelt responses of our hubber community. How wonderful it is to exchange thoughts and experiences about the Civil Rights and Post Civil Rights Eras.
It's definitely been a cathartic experience for me and I've been grateful for the support of readers like you.
Amazing story and wonderful Hub and having lived though the era I can say "so much has changed"! It may not be perfect yet but we are heading there.
I was living in Fayetteville NC, in 1976 and had just gotten married. My husband at that time was a city employee and we were invited to dinner at a co-workers house. A young Afro-American couple our age and we started talking about the City Employees Christmas Party and I said “great, let's sit together”. The silence was deafening. Then my husband explained to me there would be separate parties. It was a shock and I had to ask, is there also one for Hispanics or Asians? Coming from a family that could fly a number of different flags and a covers a mixture of races, having been an Army brat and Army wife I thought we really had already progressed past that point I mean we had just celebrated the bicentennial, I was from the “love everyone” generation. I really felt like I had moved into the dark ages.
The next year I was a manager at a small discount store my staff was racially mixed, and all got along well. I invited everyone to my house for a Christmas Party and again “Silence”. But they all came and it was a wonderful party enjoyed by all.
But I think the most memorable experience was a much older African-American lady customer who joined our conversation at work about racial equality “She said you young people are always in such an uproar, heck, some of us don’t want to move in next door, or have you marry our sons we just want an equal opportunity to live and work as you do.” Made me realize older people of every race may not always be open to a total change of thinking, but you also notice with each generation how things get better. So most of us must have learned something. Heck even Archie Bunker Progressed *grin*
Hi Justsilvie,
Thanks so much for sharing some of your experiences on this topic, which were very heartwarming and also enlightening.
Sounds like you've had an amazing and diverse upbringing with lots of tales to tell about tolerance and acceptance.
I appreciate your taking time to leave such an insightful comment.
Thank you for your story. Your Mom is a wise and brave woman. With people like you, your Mom, and the hubbers that have commented here -- we will continue to keep MLK's dream alive.
Thanks so much, Truckstop Sally,
You're so right- the hubbers who have left comments have been wonderful and that gives me hope for the present and the future. I appreciate you taking time to leave a comment.
Wow! What an experience you had - both of them (pool and school). I remember being terribly worried for my dad when race riots broke out in Detroit. He worked in a tool & die shop downtown but he reassured me that he was not in that same area. I also vividly remember going to baseball games down at Tiger stadium and driving through the ghetto, seeing the houses with boarded up windows and men hanging out on the corner with nothing to do.
While progress has been made, there is a lot more to do.
Welcome Danette,
The Detroit riots were some of the most intense in the country. I'm glad your Dad wasn't affected by them. I agree that progress has been made, but there is still a lot more to do.
Thanks for taking time to read my hub and leave an insightful comment.
Happyboomernurse, you are lucky to have such a forward thinking mother. How sad that this had to happy, that such prejudice should be directed towards anyone especially children. Prejudice is a learned response. We are not born prejudiced, we learn it on our parent's knee. I taught my girls to treat everyone fairly no matter what the color of their skin, their religion or their nationality. We have come a long way but still have a way to go. We are all the same under the skin.
Hi KoffeeKlatch Gals,
Sounds like you are raising your girls as my mother raised me, which is a great blessing to a child. I have always been thankful that I was taught love and kindness for all people.
I agree that prejudice is a learned response and as more and more people raise their children as you are doing, and as my mother did, we will make more progress with accepting each other regardless of skin color, religion or our differing nationalities.
Thanks for taking time to read my hub and leave a comment.
Wow what an amazing hub about a few moments that greatly impacted your life. It made me think about so many things. I was not alive during this era but I do teach about it. Teaching in an urban school district, I am reminded daily of the inequalities that African Americans still face. Our district is not equiped with the latest technology, our fine arts programs are being cut, our buildings are in poor shape and my students' counterparts in surrounding affluent districts have the best and latest of everything.
When I read the part about your experience after the assasination of Dr.King, it made me remember the only time I really experienced racial tension first hand. I was in college when the OJ Simpson trial was being heard. I sat in class the afternoon that the verdict was read and our professor had brought in a tv for us to hear the verdict first hand. As you, I sat in a room filled with students of all cultural and racial backgrounds,as naive as a new baby. Immediately after the verdict was read, a round of cheers exploded from all of the African American students in the room and the white students sat shocked and silenced. I couldn't believe that OJ had been acquitted and that there were people that were happy about it. It seemed to me that it was such a clear cut case of guilt and couldn't understand how people would be overjoyed that he had been found not guilty. It really wasn't until many years later that I really realized the racial impact of that moment. However I did know that I was very uncomfortable in that classroom and couldn't wait to get back to my dorm. Thank you for sharing your experiences. I am voting this up and am linking this to my next hub which is on Black History books. Excellent work.
Hi Cardelean,
God bless you for the job you're doing as a teacher. I am saddened that inequality of resources still exists in urban schools and I fear that with the current economy things may get worse before they get better. On days you feel discouraged, please remember that it is the human interaction between student and teacher that has the most profound impact on a student's life and their ability to learn. You have a big heart and really care about the kids you teach and I'm sure that is what they will remember most when they look back on the time they spent in your classroom- a teacher who invested her heart and helped them believe that regardless of their current circumstances, they could learn and achieve great things.
Thanks for sharing your experience about the OJ Simpson trial verdict. Although it was very uncomfortable for you at the time it happened, you now have a very acute sense of how the same event can be perceived very differently by people of different backgrounds, which will be helpful to you during your teaching career.
Thanks so much for voting this hub up. It will be an honor if you link it to your next hub on Black History books and I look forward to reading what you have to say about that topic.
Superbly written piece!
Thank goodness for people like your mother, who were willing to stand up for racial equality at a time when it was a very touchy issue.
I can only imagine what you felt after Dr. King was killed! The fear that turned to terror. And your poor brother! To have to suffer like that for the actions of another!
I will be back to read more of your work. I believe you are a very talented writer, and this was well worth the read!
Welcome RunAbstract,
Thanks so much for your kind words and for taking time to read my hub and leave a comment.
I look forward to reading more of your own work, too. We both seem to enjoy writing about the different generations and members of our family when there's something that can be learned from their actions and stories.
I cried most of the way through this one, happyboomernurse. Fantastic job of bringing out all of the intense emotions of the time and on the topic, in a way that is compassionate and understanding from every possible perspective....I think. It tells me a lot of who you are and how you came to be, too. Thank you so much for, what I call, a heart massage.
Thanks so much for your empathic and compassionate comment. It was an intense time period in my life, but as with all such events, time allows us the perspective to see how the things we've experienced have helped shape who we are.
I never heard the term, heart massage, but I like the way it sounds and the image it invokes.
Wow, I know a lot of people that should read this Hub.
Welcome Granny's House, and thanks for taking time to read my hub and leave a comment.
voted up and beautiful. there's no button for writing that doesn't get in the way of the meaningful story or i'd have clicked on that, too.
Hi Cathylynn99,
Thanks for reading my hub and voting it up. Your kindness and complement is humbly appreciated.
This is so wonderful thanks for sharing
Your mum did the best thing we should not despise people by clour ,race, hair sex or size it's pathetic and absurd
We ought to love everybody for God don't love the whites and hate the blacks.
I am black and proud of it.
You know there's still racialism where i live there are a different race that looks down on you when you are of the black race. It's all nonsense and a dillusion
and no racial person would see God's face.
God bless you happyboomernurse :)
Thanks so much for your insightful comment, Ladyjojo. It's greatly appreciated as is your ongoing support of my writing.
I too, believe that God and authentic love are color blind. Also, acceptance, love and pride in our own race is the first step to loving those of all races.
Yes my dear! we should never think ourselves to be better than anyone. For our own selves IS OUR GREATEST enemy.
It makes us sin in thoughts words and deeds. To often self gets in the way and ruin things.
Have a bless day
Peace
What a wonderful, beautiful blog. I give the highest respect "shout out" to your mom. She not only had some some heart but it seems as if the apple did not fall far from the tree..
God Bless you real good today,
Sunnie
Welcome Sunnie Day,
Thanks so much for the extra blessing and your kind words about me and my mom. They're greatly appreciated.
This is an extremely powerful and beautiful story. One that knocks on our heads and remind us to remember. More than that, your style and storytelling sent me straight to that time. I could see everything happening: clear as day (scary!). Voted up, beautiful & bookmarked ^_^.
This hub was such an experience, thank you.
/Claire
Thank you so much for the kind words and support. I WAS back in that time period as I wrote, so it was helpful to know that as a reader it came across to you that way. I appreciate the feedback and look forward to reading more of your own hubs.
really powerful writing. I loved it. voted up and stuff
Hi Annmackiemiller,
Thanks for the feedback and vote up. Your support is greatly appreciated.
You learned well from your wonderful mother and continue to help others whenever you can. A beautiful and touching article that I'm certain has and will have a positive impact on all readers.
Thanks so much for the kind words, Auntie D, and for taking time to read this long hub. I appreciate your feedback and hope you are right about it having a positive impact on readers.
Even after all these years this made me cry. I will never understand hatred and cruelty. Last year my seven year old was in a class with a beautiful little boy named Kinjee. One day I asked if Kinjee was Korean or Asian. My little love shrugged and said, "Kinjee is a friend." I pray for all the world to live with this simple philosophy. I think I may need to write a Hub about that. Hmmmm
Hi Hyphenbird,
Oh I hope you do write a hub about it. Your 7 year old has it exactly right- all that's important is that Kinjee is a friend! This gives me hope that things are changing in the world and I do believe it's the children who can lead the way in this area as long as we stop poisoning their little minds against those who are "different" in some way.
Thanks for leaving such a heartwarming comment that adds so much to this hub.
Great job, Gail, on your interview with Littleton Mitchell for Danette's iwitness account. Just read it and left a comment. I like how you linked it back to your article and experience here. It was a fascinating interview and I was especially struck by the information re: his wife's exp. as a nurse.
BTW--congratulations on your hubscore!
Hi Denise,
How cool that you came back here through Danette Watt's, Great Minds Speak website after reading my article, "An Interview With Littleton Mitchell Helps Me Understand How Jim Crow Laws Impacted Blacks." I was so honored when Danette asked me if I could write something for her new site, and was pleased with the final product.
Littleton's wife, Jane, was deceased at the time I interviewed him but his love, admiration and pride was evident in the way he spoke about her, especially in regards to her amazing nursing career. I really should do a hub about Jane one day as the story of her life is quite fascinating.
Thanks, as always, for your ongoing support.
You're welcome, Gail. And, likewise to you.
Great story, you definitely had a very wise mother. Most of this happened before my time but I've always thought that racism no matter who it's directed at is a very ugly emotion. I love the fact that my children, and I would imagine the same goes for their friends really have no concept of racism.
Welcome Karen N,
Yes Mom was wise and ahead of her time. Am glad to hear that you were raised to accept people of all races and that your own children are being raised that way, too.
Thanks so much for taking time to leave such an insightful comment.
Your mother was one-of-a-kind! And, if I may, so is her daughter. I love this hub so very much. I used to watch riots on tv and just sit and cry. Then I would get angry and want to go on a march for civil rights. I have never been able to understand prejudice of any kind. We are all the same. We are all brothers and sisters. Why is it that some people just don't get it? Racisim is just wrong.
I am passing your hub onto several people and bookmarking it as well. A huge thumbs up on this one. Really terrific!
Thanks so much for your kind and compassionate comment. I believe many people are taught to be prejudiced at a young age, just like the lyrics that are in the South Pacific song,"You've Got to be Carefully Taught." The lyrics are as follows:
"You've got to be taught
To hate and fear,
You've got to be taught
From year to year,
It's got to be drummed
In your dear little ear
You've got to be carefully taught.
You've got to be taught to be afraid
Of people whose eyes are oddly made,
And people whose skin is a diff'rent shade,
You've got to be carefully taught.
You've got to be taught before it's too late,
Before you are six or seven or eight,
To hate all the people your relatives hate,
You've got to be carefully taught!"
Those of us who weren't taught these things at such a young and tender age usually aren't prejudiced and treat those of all races with respect, kindness and love.
Thanks so much for passing this hub on. I have been very heartened by the response it's gotten from most readers.
Happyboomernurse,
Oh how I am crying from this at the memories it provokes. I think our mothers (parents) had much in common and agree with some of the comments that we still have such a far way to go in this country in the area of acceptance.
I have been told the story by Mom of how my Dad infuriated her entire Southern family by deliberately drinking at the "black water fountain" and visiting in the "black area" of the train/ speaking to everyone. Mom had already infuriated everyone in the family by marrying Dad, an Italian... "just one step up in their eyes". Our household was colorblind and it felt right.
My sister and I recently saw "The Help", thinking this was surely Mom's era and scenario. Mom would have been the heroine writing her novel and making me proud... as your Mamma surely did with this most beautiful example. The apple has not fallen far from the tree!
Voted UP & UABI-- have a peaceful day, mar.
Hi Marcoujor,
Wow. What an incredible comment. Thanks so much for sharing your parents' deliberate defiance of the Jim Crow laws of their day. It does remind me of my mom.
It is a blessing to be brought up in a household that promotes tolerance and love for all.
I recently saw The Help with my hubby and we thoroughly enjoyed it. A great reminder of the kind of courage it took to stand up for what's right when what's right is against what your culture and friends believe and even against the law.
Our society still has a long way to go in the areas of acceptance and love and equal opportunities and I think it's important that those of us who are older speak out about the past. The Civil Rights Era was a very volatile and painful era for our country but it was like the lancing of a festering wound that needed to be opened before healing could even begin to occur.
Thanks for the vote up. I appreciate it and am so glad that we are now following each other.
Beautiful story. I could not imagine my friends not being able to come to my birthday party. I am glad your mom stood up for equality and your friends were allowed to attend. I have only read it in history books, but when mom was alive she would tell me about it her experiences. She was a part of the civil rights movement in the midwest and for that I commend her. Thank you for another great hub. :)
Welcome AEvans,
Thanks so much for your feedback and for sharing the fact that your mom told you stories about her own experiences during the civil rights movement in the midwest. Have you written any hubs about what she told you?
I guess we were both blessed to have mothers who stood up for equality at a time when doing so took a lot of courage, yet was the right thing to do. The older I get, the more I appreciate the fact that I was brought up to treat people of all races, religions and nationalities with equal respect and kindness. I believe raising children that way is the best hope for future world wide peace.
What a great story, and you told it with such authority! Your Mom sounds like a terrific person and rold model!
Great hub
Welcome Shea Duane,
Am glad you enjoyed it and I agree that my Mom was a wonderful role model. She had the courage to speak up for her convictions and do what she thought was right and brought me up the same way.
Thank you for taking time to read my hub and leave a comment. It's greatly appreciated.
This is a great story, and i think you wrote it very well. Judging by the amount of comments, it looks like you really struck a nerve. It is amazing to think that such blatant racial discrimination happened so recently.
I like that this story was told from the perspective of children. It is true that no one is born a racist. I remember that as a child, I really was colorblind- I didn't even realize that my black friends were black until my neighbors began to make fun of them for it. Now I realize that my parents had never mentioned anything to me about racism, and that those kids' parents had told them not to play with black kids. Children can teach us all powerful lessons about our perceptions.
Welcome Stephaniedas,
Thanks so much for your insightful and compassionate comments and I'm glad to hear your parents brought you up to respect and befriend all people. I just finished reading your hub about people in the Middle East and can see you make it a point to learn about other peoples' cultures and promote understanding.
I appreciate your feedback.
When I came to get the url for this hub to add to my 50th one, I noticed I hadn’t left a comment first time round, so I’ve come back to rectify that now. ( I was probably overwhelmed and didn’t know what to say. I’ve learned how to leave comments in the past 8 months!) I was amazed, impressed and heartened at how brave your mother was. What a great mentor for you.
I am really glad that around the world much prejudice has been erased since then, but there’s still room for more tolerance. My children’s primary (junior) school classes were always around a third Muslim, and several of their friends are Muslim, as are some of mine, so it saddens me to see the hatred some people now have for Muslims. As you point out this hub, prejudice is rooted in fear, and we all have the potential to make fear-based judgements that are in nobody’s best interests. Learning to let go of our own fears and prejudices is the most important thing we can do, in my opinion. Thank you for this beautiful and thought-provoking hub.
Hi Melovy,
Thanks so much for your insightful comment and for mentioning this hub in your 50th hub. Your feedback and support are greatly appreciated.
Yes, Mom was a great role model for me when it came to respecting the rights of all people and to treating everyone with kindness and respect.
I am glad you are setting a wonderful example for your own children. I truly believe it's a gift when parents raise their children to be accepting of people of all faiths, nationalities and ethnic backgrounds.
I read your account with racism understanding the situation. You see, I lived in a racially devided country but due to my religious belief that "all men are created equal" I treated both black and white people equally.
However, in the early eighties during racial riots a gang of black men stoned (broken bricks) my car while I was inside, doors locked and in low gear I managed to drive through the huge gang. They hated me for being a white person in their area and shouted "kill her." To cut a long story short, the car was so damaged it was written off. As a result I stuttered for five years caused by the shock.
I thought it couldn't get worse but other incidences followed the last in 2006 when at gun point i was robbed of all that was in my car and on my person, jewellery including my wedding ring and more.
Am I supposed to reason "at least he didn't pull the trigger?" That was the take of many afterwards.
I continue to treat people of all walks of life equally.
Your mom set a good example to others, a wonderful read, thank you!
My Dear LadyLyell,
My pulse actually quickened when I read your comment and the traumatic incidents you endured due to racial violence and crime. You most definitely do know what I experienced only your own experience was far more severe as actual physical harm was aimed at you, not just threats. And the emotional effects and shock of being attacked like that must have been even harder to endure.
But you are an inspiration in that despite the traumas you experienced you continue to treat people of all walks of life equally.
Yes, my mom did set a good example and it appears as though your faith and upbringing has helped you treat all people well.
Thank you for sharing your experience in such a heartfelt manner.
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Beautiful story, We have come a long way, but NOT far enough. there is still so much hate and racism in this country. I seen it first hand in the service, blacks were allowed to fight for the country but they were still treated so badly. Thanks for sharing this story. God Bless