I grew up in a wonderful town. My opine, but many share it. Small, but not too small. Remote, but not too remote. In a specific era. But, in hindsight, not a proud era.
For the most part, we kids, we white kids that is, either didn't recognize discrimination, or recognized it, but didn't understand it. Worse part, I don't remember saying I'm sorry, and even worse, I did nothing to fight it on your behalf.
Our graduating class, 1970, has a site online, specifically for our class. A few weeks back, I asked "Who among us went K thru 12 to Liberty (our small town) for every year of our education?" I'd moved here, twice actually. Kindergarten, first grade elsewhere, moved here in the 2nd, moved again, back when I was 8 or 9. Many answered "I did"... Some, like me, moved here early, but didn't attend all K thru 12.
Then, a friend wrote "Liberty was segregated when I was in kindergarten, but I went to Liberty school 1st thru 12." Damn. I truly felt sick at my stomach. The first time, in 69 years, I finally said "I'm so sorry."
I knew the local theater made black children sit in the balcony. I knew the local drug store, let white kids sit at the soda fountain tables, but not black kids. While I didn't understand, I have no excuse for not standing up, protesting, saying "That simply isn't right, why?" But, I didn't.
It's well known in our little town, the North End is where the black people lived (and many still do.) I didn't understand it, but again, I didn't stand up in protest. For that I'm not proud.
What I do remember, was growing up over the hill, also the North End of town, but the white end. We, white and blacks alike, would dribble our basketballs to the top of the hill to the Catholic Elementary school playground - and play game after game after game of basketball. We shot free throws to form teams. We got along. Oh sure, each, white/black/either team would argue "Foul" "Did not!" "Did too!" "Nuh uh!"...Somehow, we settled it. No fistfights that I recall. We all went home wonderfully exhausted, but never mad at one another, no matter which team you were on , or, which skin color you happened to have.
This is the part where I say, had I been born black, I'd probably be dead from fighting back. I really think I would be. Easy to say, but harder to find an answer as to why I didn't do anything about discrimination.
Being a Liberty Bluejay, I was taught to not like those who happened to be Excelsior Springs Tigers. Annually, we played for "The Dueling Pistols" in high school football... I'm certain we pranked their town, assured they did ours too. After high school, I had college friends, coworkers, softball teammates, you name it, from Excelsior Springs, and i found them ALL to be wonderful people. (And hopefully vice versa).
I, thankfully, was not taught to dislike other children because they happened to be black. All through school, in college, coworkers, softball teammates, who happened to be black, I found them ALL to be wonderful people. (And hopefully vice versa).
Many made impressions upon me. Who - you might ask? Roger, Sam, China to name a few. Custodians, each, which they each were educated way way past that position, but again, I never stood up, asked "Why? Why not? Why not teachers, principals, doctors, etc.? For that, I'm sorry.
How did they impress upon me? The Golden Rule would be a good example. Except they were the only ones who kept their end of the bargain. "Do unto others, as you would have them do unto you." They were men of honor. They treated man, all, nice and with respect. I'm very sorry, paywise, positionwise, that wasn't a two way street. I have the ultimate in respect for them all the examples as men, set for us children. Again, I probably wouldn't have. I woulda fought back - which leads us back to the question "Yes, but why didn't you speak up then?" I'm sorry,way too many years late.
I just spent two hours reading newspaper clippings on a website, I'm sorry I didn't write down the name of it, about African Americans in Liberty. The articles were mostly 1980 on. I'm not so sure I could stomach articles from earlier, as the further back you go, of course, the uglier and uglier it gets. These articles where wonderful Tribune, Shopper stories about Black History and prominent Liberty citizens. Some I knew, many I knew descendants of. The things they did for their fellow man, be they black or white. Positions in church, in charitable organizations, in City, County positions.
Sports. Oh man have I loved my life participating in, viewing, sports in Liberty. Many, many, "the best ever" Bluejays have happened to be black. Charlie. Beloved Charlie. The best running back I ever saw here. He went on to many firsts, first black to be a college coach in the State of Missouri, the first black assistant coach for the Denver Broncos, the first front office executive of the Broncos (Director of Public Relations, then promoted to Director of Player and Community Relations.) The irony. While we, we screwed things up, Charlie directed Community Relations. God Bless you Charlie. I am proud to know you, and even prouder now that you're back home and to be known as "just Charlie" is good by you.
OK, I'm gonna get a tad carried away on Sports. Albert was the first "Best I ever saw" Bluejay hoopster. Then, Charlie, don't get mad, Jimmy (from when I was in school) was PRETTY DADGUM good, to the tune of 1st team All-State running back! I loved Jimmy, may he RIP. Fun. Crazily athletic, and not just in football. Jimmy "threw me a pass once." He did. It was dodgeball in PE. He held two of those prolific red bouncy bounce playground balls. I shoulda known. He threw one high into the air, I camped under it thinking "AHA, I'm about to catch this and get the GREAT Jimmy out!" Just as I set my feet to catch it, KAWAAAAAAMMMM, the second ball Jimmy was holding smacked me broadside in the face, knocking me down. When I finally was able to see after it, I looked at Jimmy and he had a fullcourt smile on his face. That was Jimmy. The best. David. David came later, played at K-State, in the NFL. Don't get mad, Jimmy was still the best. I. Ever. Saw. Damn the knee injury.
Then there was a whole group of roundballers. Kevin, Kent, Miko... Ronnie. Albert was the best big'n I remembered at the time, but man Ronnie, that guy was a magician with the ball. Then came Robert. Holy smokes, such purity as a player. Digger Phelps, former Notre Dame coach, called him "The Super." A stellar career at Iowa State. Then of course Nick. Nick was awesome on the undefeated State Championship team, but don't get mad, I still think Robert was, the. best. ever.
Baseball. That Kevin guy up there. Hands down. The. Best. I. Ever. Saw. in Liberty. If you weren't scared to bat off of Kevin, you weren't human. The Houston Astros believed so too. He made it all the way to AA, but I will never forget umpiring his games where guys were lucky if they were even able to lay a bunt down against his fastball. It was super fast, I have the shin bruises to prove it.
I got carried away, I'm sorry. Back to where I was.
Below are a few paragraphs from a study done at Stanford University regarding conversations between white and black friends:
"This is some of the first research to examine how people approach talking about race-related experiences with friends of a different racial background. To learn more about how people perceive these conversations, study leader Kiara Sanchez, a PhD student in psychology, ran five different studies with a sample of 727 Black and white participants.
Overall, Sanchez found that both groups had identity-specific concerns.
Among white participants, some said they felt that they lacked a common ground on which to have these kinds of discussions. Others were scared they might say the wrong thing or come across as racist.
Black participants also saw possible pitfalls. They said they were more hesitant to talk about their race-related experiences with their white friends than they were with friends of color. They worried that their white friend might dismiss their experience, not understand them, or see them through the lens of a stereotype – even if inadvertently.
At the same time, the researchers found that Black participants said they wanted their white friends to understand their experiences as a person of color; they hoped that by having these talks, their white friends could become more anti-racist. And when it came down it, they said they would be willing to share a personal race-related experience with most of their white friends.
“What was striking was that even though both sides felt these concerns, they also wanted to have these conversations,” Sanchez said. “They saw the risks but they also saw a lot of benefits.”
The scholars also found that friendships may be a fitting space to have these conversations. White participants reported they were most at ease with a friend directly sharing their experiences with them, as compared to learning about them from a stranger. “That suggests that conversations about race for white people may be best had with a close friend through disclosure,” Sanchez said."
I really don't know how to close now. One, I'm sorry I never had those discussions. Two, thank you all for showing me how to behave in life. Especially in time of discrimination. I'm not so sure I could've. In fact,I know I coudn't have. I'm sorry doesn't cut it, but hopefully I love you helps.
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