the world is bigger than your backyard

I know I keep saying it, but we really did move around a lot. This always meant new school and new neighbors. Being the new kid was hard, but there were times that were a bit easier. One way was riding my bike around the block and through the neighborhood. The world becomes a little bit smaller. I enjoyed the "exploring". I also enjoyed meeting people. A bike or a skateboard was a common link to the other kids. Gave me a chance to get to know them and for them to know me. Not all about me, but just enough. I met quite a few people when I was out. I would meet kids my own age and families. Families that seemed so different then mine. Families where people actually got along. People were actually very nice for the most part.

 I was still pretty young. Young enough where I hadn't learned the "dangers" of talking to people of other races. What I mean is that it was okay to know who your neighbors are, but keep a close eye on them. At least that's what I remember learning from my dad. He was a closet racist. He'd be nice to people who were non-white, but as soon as he was where he felt they couldn't hear him,  I'd hear about this group is always in gangs and will stab me and steal my bike. This other group was nothing but crooks and drug dealers. I overheard him and his friends telling racial jokes. It was okay to have them as co-workers, but never as bosses. Even worse than that was to have them as friends. This is how it was. I just went along with it. Living in Southern California, you can't escape the fact that there are people from many diverse backgrounds. Either you learn to get along or you have problems. I never really saw people as Black, Hispanic, Asian, or whatever. I mean I knew they weren't white, but they were friends and it didn't matter. 

The biggest change came along when  I was about 10. I spent the summer in Harper's Ferry, West Virginia with my grandma, Inez. As I mentioned before, I enjoyed reading and learning new things. I learned about the civil war. I also learned about John Brown. He was an abolitionist. I don't really remember how much of what he did was true or not, but something hit a nerve with me. Where was I in this? It really helped me see the world differently. Race was no longer an issue for me. I began to see other people as just people in this world. I began to develop friendships outside of my white circles. My little friends would say things like, "Hey you can't be friends with him! He's black!", "You can't talk to her! She's mexican!". Kids can be so dumb. But where do they learn this stuff? I remembered that John Brown didnt just talk about putting an end to slavery. He took action. I'm not sure how much of what he did was good, bad, or indifferent. I just knew that I had to make a choice. I was already used to rejection for being the new kid, so if I lost friends for being nice to non white kids, so what. I actually started making more friends. Started hanging out with different families and learning about their cultures. Not a lot, but just enough to want to learn more. I also felt more accepted by these people than my own family. Weird, but true. I was like the token white kid.  Out in public, people would wave to me and my dad would get nervous and ask who was waving and why. I'd say it someone from school. I couldn't bring myself to let him know that they were my friends. I figured what he didn't know would hurt him. Besides it would just be one more thing to make him mad.

I also remember people coming up to me on Saturdays when I was doing yard work. I started mowing the yard when I was pretty young . I can't tell you how many times an adult would come up to me and introduce themselves. After a short introduction, they would tell me that they were from a church and would invite me to go with them the next day. Sundays weren't a busy day. I might sleep in a little. I'd usually watch Super Chicken cartoons while eating cereal. Not really a whole lot going on. At first, I would ask my dad. He said he didn't care. He told me that if I wanted to waste my weekend that was my business. He just wanted to make sure I didn't get into any trouble with the law. I remembered the stories from Released Time and wanted to hear more. I was excited. I'd try to find some of my better school clothes to wear. I only remember getting picked up at my house a couple of times. Usually, I'd go over to their house and wait until it was time to go. I went to a lot of different churches. Heard a lot of the stories. Somebody gave me a Bible when I was in 5th grade. Sundays seemed like they took forever to come around. They also went by so fast. It was an escape. An escape from things that never seemed make any sense. Many times it was the only structure that I had in the week. People moved away. New people came to invite me. We moved away. Somewhere along the way, I stopped going to church. I had come to believe that there was something or someone who kept things going, but there was still a lot of unanswered questions.