I lived in subsidized apartments in a large northern city until after kindergarten. The neighborhood was black & white, my parents' friends were black w/kids my age (I still remember them). Then we moved to south NJ where my friends were Jewish. Didn't matter to me; I was brought up to respect everyone. Race/religion were irrelevant. Moved to a large southern city when I was 10, blacks & whites coexisted peacefully together in grade school, but once in junior high the self-segregation began: in the cafeteria, the athletic field, pep rallies, assemblies. That's just the way it was. Racial tension was there but just simmered underneath (though it wouldn't take much for it to come to the surface).
Busing began when I was in the 8th grade. I wasn't bused but some friends were, while black kids from a poor neighborhood were bused to my junior high. I was in remedial classes that year because my grades were so terrible (I hated school). I was especially bad in math (still am). My teacher, "Miss Jones," was a black lady--honest, fair, direct. She was my favorite teacher in junior high. I,along with 3 other students, were the only white kids in the class; the rest were black. I didn't recognize any so I knew they were bused from across town. The math was practically on a 1st-grade level, meaning I could handle it. But these black kids could barely add 2+2. I kid you not. And they didn't even care. I couldn't figure it out--eight years of school and they couldn't add? Miss Jones had her work cut out for her. She enlisted my help as a tutor because I was doing so well. I hate to admit it but I enjoyed the class, not just because I was passing but I considered it a form of entertainment, with the let's-see-what-these-kids-don't-know-today attitude. Sad but true.
One morning there was an assembly for honor society inductions. Only a handful of students were selected. When I got to math class later on, all the black kids were grumbling amongst themselves. Miss Jones asked what the problem was and, to this day, I can remember the answer by a diminutive, curly-haired, cute black boy named Eddie: "No black brothers or sisters were inducted into the honor society!" I had noticed it, too, but didn't think anything of it. Miss Jones told him it was because of their GPAs. No, they cried, it was racism. The principal & teachers were prejudiced. Miss Jones got really angry & lectured the class, basically saying that this class was a snap (it was) and there was no excuse for all the laziness & bad grades. If they wanted to be on the honor society then everyone had to work harder. The students called her an Uncle Tom & she left the room in tears, running to the girl's counselor (who was also back), who then came in to remonstrate, only to get the same tongue lashing.
This was way back in 1971 & I still remember the incident. I have no idea what these kids (now in their late 50s) have done with their lives, but I sincerely hope that they gained some wisdom & didn't blame everything that ever went wrong in their lives on racism. I hope they're doing well, also their children & grandchildren. Most of the time we get to where we are in life by our own choices. I have black friends and I work with black people (even my supervisor is black, I love her to death). I'm fortunate to have a job that I love with such wonderful co-workers.
Oh, I can't forget another incident around the same time in English class. I had ordered Girl Scout cookies from a girlfriend, she gave them to me right before English (Thin Mints, what else?). Some students came up to me asking for a cookie. I handed out a few, then put the box away. A black boy named Michael came up & asked for one but I told him no, I wasn't giving all my cookies away. He walked away mad, saying "You're just prejudiced, this girl is prejudiced!" I could only guess that the attitudes these kids had were passed down from their parents. And, sadly, the attitudes are still being passed down.
I lived in subsidized apartments in a large northern city until after kindergarten. The neighborhood was black & white, my parents' friends were black w/kids my age (I still remember them). Then we moved to south NJ where my friends were Jewish. Didn't matter to me; I was brought up to respect everyone. Race/religion were irrelevant. Moved to a large southern city when I was 10, blacks & whites coexisted peacefully together in grade school, but once in junior high the self-segregation began: in the cafeteria, the athletic field, pep rallies, assemblies. That's just the way it was. Racial tension was there but just simmered underneath (though it wouldn't take much for it to come to the surface).
Busing began when I was in the 8th grade. I wasn't bused but some friends were, while black kids from a poor neighborhood were bused to my junior high. I was in remedial classes that year because my grades were so terrible (I hated school). I was especially bad in math (still am). My teacher, "Miss Jones," was a black lady--honest, fair, direct. She was my favorite teacher in junior high. I,along with 3 other students, were the only white kids in the class; the rest were black. I didn't recognize any so I knew they were bused from across town. The math was practically on a 1st-grade level, meaning I could handle it. But these black kids could barely add 2+2. I kid you not. And they didn't even care. I couldn't figure it out--eight years of school and they couldn't add? Miss Jones had her work cut out for her. She enlisted my help as a tutor because I was doing so well. I hate to admit it but I enjoyed the class, not just because I was passing but I considered it a form of entertainment, with the let's-see-what-these-kids-don't-know-today attitude. Sad but true.
One morning there was an assembly for honor society inductions. Only a handful of students were selected. When I got to math class later on, all the black kids were grumbling amongst themselves. Miss Jones asked what the problem was and, to this day, I can remember the answer by a diminutive, curly-haired, cute black boy named Eddie: "No black brothers or sisters were inducted into the honor society!" I had noticed it, too, but didn't think anything of it. Miss Jones told him it was because of their GPAs. No, they cried, it was racism. The principal & teachers were prejudiced. Miss Jones got really angry & lectured the class, basically saying that this class was a snap (it was) and there was no excuse for all the laziness & bad grades. If they wanted to be on the honor society then everyone had to work harder. The students called her an Uncle Tom & she left the room in tears, running to the girl's counselor (who was also back), who then came in to remonstrate, only to get the same tongue lashing.
This was way back in 1971 & I still remember the incident. I have no idea what these kids (now in their late 50s) have done with their lives, but I sincerely hope that they gained some wisdom & didn't blame everything that ever went wrong in their lives on racism. I hope they're doing well, also their children & grandchildren. Most of the time we get to where we are in life by our own choices. I have black friends and I work with black people (even my supervisor is black, I love her to death). I'm fortunate to have a job that I love with such wonderful co-workers.
Oh, I can't forget another incident around the same time in English class. I had ordered Girl Scout cookies from a girlfriend, she gave them to me right before English (Thin Mints, what else?). Some students came up to me asking for a cookie. I handed out a few, then put the box away. A black boy named Michael came up & asked for one but I told him no, I wasn't giving all my cookies away. He walked away mad, saying "You're just prejudiced, this girl is prejudiced!" I could only guess that the attitudes these kids had were passed down from their parents. And, sadly, the attitudes are still being passed down.