My grandfather was also a racist. I well recall how he’d complain and use the n-word in the 60s as we saw Black people on TV. But he also just adored Ernie Banks of the Cubs. Go figure.

I wasn’t sure how to be around my grandpa. Should I — I asked myself — emulate his behaviors? I don’t think I did. I might have said something less committal like “yeah” when he commented on who he saw on TV.

Thankfully none of his prejudices stuck to me. As I grew up and my experiences and exposures to all sorts of people around the US and the world expanded I finally came to understand: all people (and I’m including Russians, Chinese, Palestinians, ...) are simply people trying to get by and live their lives. Many are delightful; some are not. I choose to hang out with the delightful ones.

Dear Jennifer and Emma,

My father was a racist. It was funny - he didn't see Asians, indigenous people, Hispanics, etc. as Black, or people of color. 

Confronted him as a child when he said the N word.

Thanks to the TV series, "All in the Family," he was able to see himself and laugh at himself. Because of that show, he was able to look at himself and let go of racism.

Am so proud of my father for letting go of racist attitudes!

Your friend,

Monica

There is a song I heard years ago "everyone's a little bit racist", it has a lot in truth in it that still applies a decade later, but the puppets and jokles make it palatable - no idea if the production was actually any good or not but the song has stuck with me. If people could take ownership of the fact that we are all brought up in an us and them environment,making judgements about those who are different (for any reason) then we can start to change our own thought patterns. My dad was very racist and many of my extended family still are, but none of my immediate family are, I genuinely can't remember the last time I heard a Scots, an Englishman and an Irishman joke yet we live in a very monoculture society even for Scotland. I think I was in my teens before I realised that the black lab in Dambusters, a film I loved and had watched over and over with my dad, was called N***** and no one batted an eye, that would never happen in a film today. That we are so keen to divide ourselves in order to belong somewhere is something we can all change with enough effort.💜💙💚💛🧡❤️.

When it comes to race, my maternal grandfather had a "kill em all" attitude. He was born in 1923 and was the most harsh racist I have ever seen. Picture that on an impressionable child.

When i started school at 4, I had never heard the word "black" once in my life. It was as if it was a word from a language that no one in my family spoke. This was when kindergarten was still half days for the kids. The teacher was teaching us about colors one day. She would hold up a crayon, and ask a random student to name the color. When she got to me she held up a black crayon and asked me to identify the color. I said it was N-word. She was appalled. She grabbed me by the collar and took me straight to the principals office. By this time I was crying, because I didn't know why I was in trouble. Something important to note, is that the principal was a black woman. I sat there for a few minutes crying while the teacher went back to class to do some damage control. When the principal called me in I was terrified. She sat me down and asked me if I knew how much trouble I was in and why I would talk like that.This is where I got confused. She asked me why I would call a crayon a N-word. This confused me even more. She could see the confusion. She started asking me about my home life, and how I knew that word. I explained to her how I knew the word. I told her the truth. That everything I saw that was black had that word attached to it in some way. She realized that I had been taught wrong and that it wasn't entirely my fault. She then started explaining to me what it actually meant and how bad a word it was. I started crying even harder at that point because I thought I was in so much trouble. She was kind and understanding though. She came around the desk, gave me a tissue, and told me I wasn't in any trouble.

That was the first time I heard the word black, instead of the other word.

When hate is the first lesson of the day, and for 18 years, it becomes instinct.

There's a song by a rapper on YouTube that makes a LOT of good points. I can't post it here, because it's extremely vulgar. But I think a lot of people should see it. If anyone wants to, PM me and I'll give you the link.