Not learning…like present tense. I have learned these lessons again and again a long time. My path is not like everyone else’s. It started very young. I wasn’t raised exclusively in white culture. I was raised in paranoid, mentally ill isolation with a heavy overlay of a religious fundamentalism my parents cooked up for just our family. Our isolation led to poverty that led to me and my brother begging for food in school that led to us being in foster care. No one came near our family. We were freaks.
Ugh, I want to keep writing but my husband thinks I owe him my attention. I would rather keep explaining that if there was ever one unmet need in my life that mattered to me it was not belonging. Not belonging meant getting picked on, bullied, rejected by family, beat up. Since I don’t remember a time when we didn’t carry the stink of being different, my socializing was kept to a few close friends who have very often been black.
I observe other white people with the same lack of familiarity as people of other races. I remember learning everything about people way after I should have. Like sports. I didn’t know people went to a place to watch people engage in athletics in groups until high school. Mom limited our TV viewing to almost nothing. We saw the Roots tv series, a couple documentaries, and cartoons a couple times when we snuck them.
Okay, I am really getting chewed out.