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Would you move into a neighborhood if you were the only person of your race living there?

Results so far:

Yes
59% 619 votes Total: 1046 votes
No
41% 427 votes

by Adai Goldberg

Created on: July 22, 2009   Last Updated: August 04, 2009

I think people unnecessarily, make a big issue about race and further perpetuate hatred within American society. Sometimes, when we open our minds and explore the many diverse cultures, we may find more peace than when living amongst people who often share nothing more than the benign characteristics of skin color. I don't expect everyone to agree with my opinion but hopefully, I can at least contribute to the diversity of thought.

I grew up in Hempstead, Long Island, which was at the time, a predominately black suburb. I am a half-blood whose fathers' side comes from Shinnecock Reservation. On my grandmother's side, her great-great-grandmother came here in the 1800's, as a slave from Barbados. She served on Cherokee plantation in South Carolina, where she gave birth to a son, who became a reverend and eventually bought his freedom. Despite his religious convictions, he held much resentment against Native Americans. Later, his daughter married a local Native American man and it left him bitter. My grandmother and her siblings were the product of that union and he referred to them as red desperadoes. Race issues were always a part of our family, as colorism were always at the forefront. We struggled not only against white racism but also against black rejection.

Why is my background important? Well, because I can assure you that I have seen the good, bad and ugly of blacks and whites. In my neighborhood, if you didn't quite fit in, with the bougie black bible-thumping baptists, then you were ridiculed, and shunned. I was raised by my grandmother, who was a domestic worker. We were poor and did not live beyond our means. She owned her own house, although it was no palace. We did not have a car, and barely had a television, throughout my childhood. All the rest of the kids who were poor, were on welfare. They had nice clothes, cable, cars and lots of junk food and even they looked down on us. Often I had to fight, was spat on and teased because I was too thin, my cheekbones were too high, and my face too slender. When I came of age, I decided that I never wanted to live around black people again.

I went away to college and later joined the military. After I exited the military, I entered general society again by way of Paducah, Kentucky. When my professional recruiter mentioned Kentucky, I was afraid. In the military, we referred to it as klantucky. One of my aunts warned me not to move there . In her words, she said, if you go, don't be surprised to find

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