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I won't pretend to know what it's like to have been discriminated against because of race. I come from your average middle-class, white, divorced family. I grew up in the suburbs, rode my bike and went to the community pool during the summer. My friends were from lower to middle-class, white, semi-dysfunctional homes in the burbs, and at the time, we were oblivious to race issues. Sure, we'd seen folks of different ethnicities, but it wasn't an occasion for gawking and people were people. Right?

My first introduction to racism came from my grandparents. They were born in the early 1900's and spent their formative days in the middle of farm country. I won't claim to know the exact middle-America demographics nearly a century ago, but I'd venture to guess that much like my very early years, it didn't involve much, if any, diversity.

After WWII, my grandparents moved into a house not far from a major airport. This was big city, hustle and bustle, post-war, and pre "free love". They were accustomed to their white grocer, white mail man, white mechanic, white friends. Not long after they settled into the neighborhood, a couple moved in next door whose last name was Brown, or "Brownie" as my grandmother referred them. This was NOT because they were African-American (they were), but it was a term of endearment. They called her "Weekies" (an adaptation of her surname) and she called them "Brownie". They didn't mind her nickname for them, nor did she mind their nickname for her.

While visiting my grandparents over the years, I'd come to know the Brown family and we all liked each other very much. It wasn't until I overheard my grandmother one evening talking about her disappointment with the state of the neighborhood that I came to realize she didn't think all people were just "people". Not only was she disappointed with the increasing race diversity, but religious diversity as well. I was confused. She said she LIKED "Brownie" next door. She liked the Browns well enough to call them FRIENDS. It was mind-boggling to me that she sounded so hateful and I didn't want to be thought of that way.

Though this (tame) example could be re-enacted in many different ways not only in my family, but in yours, I would bet, it's evident that we're all exposed to racism at a very early age. Is it appropriate? Absolutely not. Is it extensive? Very. Can we prevent it? Without a doubt.

My oldest child was no more than five years old when she came inside from playing and asked if her new friend

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