I was born in Nyack NY. We lived in a lower class neighborhood just the other side of NY city across from the Tappen Zee bridge. I didn’t realize it then but I lived in a very diverse neighborhood. There were Asian, Hispanic, Black, Indian, and White kids. My family moved to NY from Western PA so my father could attend the Nyack Christian & Missionary College.
I was the new kid on the block so I found it hard to make friends. I got picked on a lot so I mostly played alone. The only friends I had was the girl next door named Kathy and a little boy across the street named Frankie. Frankie was different than me. He had a very noticeable studdering problem which caused him to get picked on as well. Frankie and I became very close friends. We did all the things little boys did back in the 1960s. We played cops and robbers, cowboys and Indians, football in the street, and built forts in our small yards. I loved Frankie, and when my family moved back to PA I was very sad and upset. got picked on a lot so I mostly played alone. The only friends I had was the girl next door named Kathy and a little boy across the street named Frankie. Frankie was different than me. He had a very noticeable studdering problem which caused him to get picked on as well. Frankie and I became very close friends. We did all the things little boys did back in the 1960s. We played cops and robbers, cowboys and Indians, football in the street, and built forts in our small yards. I loved Frankie, and when my family moved back to PA I was very sad and upset.
We moved into the only duplex in a what was otherwise a pretty much upper-middle class neighborhood. My parents enrolled me in Windsor Elementary school. It was 4th grade. I recall that they were all white kids and all from very well off families. It was there that I found out for the first time that my good boyhood friend was black.
It was there that I was taught how to be a racist. My parents never taught me that so I rejected it for my entire life.
Fast forward to today. Now they’re telling me that I have something called White Privilege. That because I was born with white skin that I’m an oppressor of the black man. That my ancestors enslaved their ancestors. And that I should be ashamed and apologize because I’m white. However, that’s not true. My grandparents came over from Italy. They never owned slaves. In fact, they told me that they were not accepted with open arms when they came here. They were called “ginnies”, “wops” and “dagos.” They had their last names changed. Capazolli became Capo. Zenone became Zenner. They worked hard, learned English and they assimilated into the American culture.
My grandparents did not get government sponsored social programs. They didn’t get any special breaks because they were Italian-American. They didn’t see themselves as victims. They didn’t expect special treatment. No, they saw America as a land of equal opportunity.
We all need to stop teaching our kids about racism. We all need to stop emphasizing our differences and emphasize what makes us the same. Yes, it’s not wrong to teach our kids where their ancestors came from and that there were injustices to their people, but by God stop teaching them that it means that they’re somehow disadvantaged now!
Racism will die on its own if you let it. This isn’t the 50s, 60s, or 70s. This is 2021. Thank God for the pioneers of civil rights. They changed America for the better. Celebrate it and move on. Now women can vote and people of all ethnic backgrounds can prosper.
I didn’t know how to be a racist, and I’m sure as Hell not going to be one. You shouldn’t either!