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When I was in Jr. High the "race riots" started. The teachers would get very nervous when there was anything hinting at racial tension.
For some reason (probably due to my geekiness) there was a group of black girls who thought it was fun to pick on me. But my mother, even though we were considered po' white trash, had taught me never to judge anyone or hate anyone because of their station in life or their skin color. She often explained to me in those years, how she had played with the black kids down the road, whose parents were tenement farmers like hers. She left home at 17 and worked in a diner. She told of one time when a black man had come in for a cup of coffee and a donut. Her boss (coward) told this 17 yr. old girl to make the man go to the back door for his coffee. She refused and served him at the counter.
From her I learned to hate the injustice of prejudice, in all it's forms. So when people prejudicially bash Southerners as being stupid hicks who live in some sort of eternal hell, I have to pity them for their ignorance. I've lived "up North" and the openly racist remarks and attitudes are just as foul as those I still occasionally find in my home town.
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