I grew up in the 1960s in Idaho Falls, Idaho. Though it was a time that changed the world, my thoughts and actions revolved around my school, my family, and my church. I didn’t think much about politics or race or illegal substances. The riots in L.A., the civil-rights marches in Alabama, the struggles in Washington’s legislative halls all seemed like something that happened on television. They were about as real to me as “I Love Lucy,” “Lassie,”or “Bonanza.”
I was an excellent student, raised in a loving lower-middle-class home. My father was a scientist (analytical spectroscopist) and my mother had been a teacher from a family of educators. I was taught that all people are created equal in God’s eyes and in the eyes of the law. I was taught that the Constitution of the United States was inspired by God and written by His chosen servants, the founders who were the very best men God had to work with. I was taught that Columbus was guided by the hand of our loving Heavenly Father and brought by Him to this promised land as part of an eternal plan. You may say that this is “white privilege.”You may want to wipe away my history, my beliefs, my thoughts, and my words, but I was privileged by my circumstances, not by my skin color.
When I was in high school, I was chosen to represent our school at Girls’ State, a week-long seminar on how government works.It was one of those experiences that shaped my thoughts into more of a world view. I began to love and cherish my heritage, grateful to my Creator for the privilege of living in a country that blessed the whole world.I was more thankful than ever for the foundation of freedoms and those who had fought for the rights and liberties of the American Dream and the human rights of all human beings. I also knew that America had to “grow up,”just like I did to know better and do better.
I was taught to be a life-long learner. I had a diverse college experience at Ricks College, Portland State University, Grays Harbor College, and finally graduating from Brigham Young University.I do not want my 70-year-old self to be judged by the things I said or did along the way because I am still learning and thinking a better way.I lived in a different world—let’s call it CONTEXT— and I did the best I could with what I knew. Don’t call me a racist! I do not think I should be judged by the color of my skin, and I don’t think anyone else should, either.I try to live by God’s laws to love everyone and treat them all the same.
As a teacher I never experienced seeing children act in racist ways. That doesn’t mean that they never did.It just means that I never really saw it. Children seldom referred to skin color—only when pushed for a description like, “You know—that brown boy.”Once a blond parent wrote me a letter accusing me of being a racist because her daughter was not doing well in spelling. I was flabbergasted. I never thought of the child as being of a different race than I was. In fact, I had never thought of race at all! The child’s father, I learned, was from Pakistan. Another time I welcomed a new child into my sixth-grade class in the middle of our preparations for a patriotic program. He was from Southeast Asia. He didn’t want to participate in our American celebration. This was my first experience with a family who had come for the extraordinary opportunities of America, but did NOT love America at all. I still can see the father at the front desk complaining that his child did not need to be told that our country was exceptional.I could not understand why they left Cambodia to come to a place they hated. I am still learning, and as I learn to do better and understand better, I do better.
Isn’t America the same way? As we learn and change, we do better! Don’t judge us out of context.Don’t erase our history! It is America’s childhood—full of mistakes and sins. As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I could think of all the horrible injustices that drove the pioneers from state to state and into the wilderness. I could dwell on the extermination order, the mobs who killed children and finally our prophet, the temple burned to the ground, the many difficulties that faced a people driven from their homes and property, OR I can remember how far we have come. I can look at context and what we learned as a people and a country. I do not hold the people of Missouri, Ohio, or Illinois guilty for the sins of their fathers. I am grateful for the history, for the mistakes, for the repentance, for the hand of God.
Brady’s Family, our doormat, My Dad
