by T. L. Christin

Created on: June 13, 2008   Last Updated: July 08, 2009

How did you learn your values? It is more than likely that the answer comes in snippets of memories of not so much what was said, but what was seen and experienced. We take our cues on what matters in life and love from our parents first, and later from other adults and friends who enter and exit our lives, shaping our view of the world and ourselves. The sort of values we generally say we want to pass on are virtuous ideals like honesty, integrity, strength and courage, kindness and concern for others. Saying these are important is easy. But as Emerson once wisely wrote, "Who you are speaks so loudly that I can't hear what you're saying." Not much passes by the alert eyes and ears of a growing child.

I don't recall much about the insignificant spring evening when my father, mother, two sisters and brother crowded around the dinner table. I don't recall the exact meal, though it was likely fried-something with full glasses of whole milk and sweet tea for my parents, spiced with a chattering conversation and giggling laughter. But I do remember when my father turned to me intently and asked about a particular friend among the many friends who had come over to play at the house the Saturday before.

I remember this especially, because my father never asked me about my friends. We seemed to come and go as we pleased, slamming the door on the way out without any notice at all. Yet, he was so interested in Clara. He smiled at me with the warmest expression as he spoke and inquired about her. "Be sure and tell her she is welcome to come back any time. Maybe she could have dinner with us if it's alright with her parents." He asked me where she lived and how I came to know her. I found this questioning and sudden focus on my new friend Clara so strange, that it caused me to wonder why he was so interested.

I sat there transfixed by my handsome young soldier of a father, who suddenly seemed to notice and single me out above my sisters and brothers, as if I had done something amazing. It was probably weeks later, before I realized after much contemplation, that the only remarkable thing about my friend Clara, was that her skin was darker than mine. I had never met a girl who had such dark skin, but my friends and I liked her, because she always had such funny stories to tell. Her life seemed so different and interesting.

For better or worse, that spring I realized that the color of skin mattered. I learned that Clara was special, because she had darker skin. I learned that my father did not believe in treating people who are different from us - differently. I also realized that spring that Clara was the only dark-skinned child in my class. It was years later that I did the math and figured out that this conversation took place in my Virginia home, in April 1968, the month and year Martin Luther King was shot.

True values are imprinted on our mind and captured in our souls when we see ordinary people do extraordinary things in the most unlikely places and times.

Learn more about this author, T. L. Christin.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.