Prejudices and Racism - An Uncomfortable Discussion

I can only imagine that my next blog entry might be seen as inappropriate or unnecessary by some people but the current situation in our country and even in our entire world has motivated me to tackle it. 

What is racism? Is it real or a figment of my imagination? Is it a thing of the past, ancient history, so to speak or is it so deeply engrained as to be influencing us to the current day.

I find it hard to believe that anyone else who came of age in the 1960’s didn’t experience similar experiences to my own. I also believe that a good deal of these 

experiences were probably profound and disturbing enough to have left an indelible mark in our psyche. 

I’d like to share some of my real life stories in the hopes that others might relate to some of them. Hopefully when we look into ourselves we can get a better understanding of the meaning and influences of racism. When we understand things more clearly, possibly we can change the things that we don’t think are the best for us, or for others in our communities and in our world. 

Initially, in my earliest years, my exposure to people of other religious denominations and other races was severely limited. Luckily, I attended Public School 76 through 4 th Grade and had the privilege of being friends with a few Jewish girls. My second grade teacher was a wonderful Jewish woman ( I only learned later on that some of my friends and my teacher were Jewish because at such a young age I had not yet been taught these distinctions). One of my strongest memories of this “ Jewish” teacher is the fact that in the midst of a terrible thunder storm when the sky became ominous looking and frighteningly dark, she comforted me and let me sit up on her lap for a few minutes. She made me feel safe again and I never forgot that feeling. One of the biggest mistakes of my life was when my parents transferred me to the Catholic School. If I could, I would go back to the past and reverse that decision; I would do everything in my power to stay in the public school where I was blissfully happy and self-confident. Instead, in September 1954 I started at St. Michael the Archangel Elementary School on Jerome St in Brooklyn, NY in the 5th grade. One day shortly after starting Catholic School I remember the nun told us to put all our valuables out of sight or take them home because the Public School students were coming into the classroom that afternoon for released time religious instructions. It didn’t take much smarts to realize that she considered the Public School kids heathens and thieves. I had just transferred from Public School so it didn’t do much for my self-image.

While a student at St. Michael the Archangel Elementary School I swallowed all the religious dogma that was fed to me, hook, line and sinker! I learned a whole lot about the fires of hell and eternal damnation and I certainly didn’t want to end up there so I tried to followed every single letter of the law to the point of obsession.