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One of the biggest and most unfortunate lies presented as "truth" is that there can be no such thing as person who is not a racist and doesn't possess even a hint of it. I will give those who tell that lie the benefit of doubt, and assume they believe what they say. Still, it is a lie.

That lie is usually presented in words such as, "There is no such thing as a person who isn't a racist, and if someone says he isn't he's lying." Of course, people who know in their hearts that they don't possess a shred of racism in them don't want to speak up and say, "I'm not a racist." They know there is no point, because they will be viewed as a liar. So, when this issue is raised there are people who simply keep silent, knowing there is no way to convince some people that everyone in the world (or country) is not a racist.

I happen to be White. When I was a young child my family lived in a small suburb of Boston, and I attended a small, neighborhood, school. Students at the school were all White. The only students who were at all a little different from the majority were the few Italian immigrant children who spoke little English. I knew nothing about the treatment of African-Americans in the South at the time. Although my exposure to people of minorities was extremely limited, I can recall not even "seeing color" back when I was very little. This may not be nice to say, but in the interest of full disclosure (and making a point, as well), the only group of people my World War II
parents ever made any comments about were Japanese people. My father had been in the War, and my mother had lost a first, young, husband in it. Even with that, though, the most negative things they said were, "We don't buy toys made in Japan. Those toys aren't made well. They hate us and don't care about our kids." I didn't so much automatically accept what my parents said (although I did notice that "made-in-Japan" toys were kind of junky back then), as I understood that my parents (who otherwise showed no "issues" with anyone else) had been through something that "maybe made them think this way".

Other than running into African-Americans at the beaches and parks, I had only met a few people who were African-American. My mother did some work for a program involving children, and there were two women/social workers who were African-American. As professional women, they wore beautiful suits and had an air of authority about them. They were very nice, and I admired their status as professional women

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