I AM WHO I AM

While on Facebook, I had an interesting discussion about the history of bigotry with someone. I was told because I didn’t major in the subject while I was in college, I really had no proof of what I believed in was accurate.

As a Virgo, a sensitive one at that, it got my blood boiling.

Ever since I was a small child, I cared about something. Animals, birds, fish (passed on reptiles…didn’t want them hurt…I just preferred not to deal with them.) As I grew older (age 5), I developed a love of books. All kinds of different books. I read voraciously, even some books which had words I didn’t know. If so, I went running to my parents to pronounce the word and tell me what it meant. They never once denied me or made fun of me. My mother encouraged me to read more, learn things. 

By the time I went from grade thru to high school I had hounded the school librarian and city librarian for books to read. Once the city librarian told my mother I had read everything she recommended. My mother responded with, “Let her read adult books. She can handle them.”

So I read and read and read. Even absorbed some non-fiction, especially when I wanted to know about what I read in fiction books. Was it true? Were the facts correct? Some weren’t. Most were. Many facts made me cry by learning more.

Even so, I grew up in a conservative, small town in Western Kansas and had my own share of unfairness (being Catholic in a mostly Protestant town). But, I loved living there. Then I went off to college and had my eyes opened to a whole new world I had not considered. In my naivety while growing up in a small town, I never knew there was true bigotry out there…worse than anything I could have ever experienced.

Once in my college political studies class, we were debating Civil Rights. It was in the late 60s, and a big discussion had ensured. With my Cinderella glasses on (yes a vintage old term), I seriously asked, why couldn’t the Negroes be patient? In time the US would come to accept them as equal? Why did they have to protest and rebel now?”

A young black man, whom I had gotten to know in class and admired very much, spoke up, 

“Christine, how much longer do we have to wait? We’ve been waiting for over hundreds of years. No one will just hand over equality to us without knowing the truth about us.” He said it quietly, no anger, no condemnation, just an honest, heartfelt response. I sat back stunned. Not once had I ever been given a more complete, and calm definitive answer about a social issue. Not once had I considered there could be fine lines of differences.

From that day on, as I went from class to class, I looked at others. Not as different but as equal. It got me to ponder…Had I wronged others without thinking?

As my education grew in college (many history classes as well), so did my opinions and beliefs. I vowed, to the best of my human ability, I would try and stand up for others no matter what.

Thirty years later I still adhere to that vow. Because of it, I have lost friends…and some dearly-beloved family members…but I have also gained many friends, ones who accept me for who I am.

To be fair, and because of this growth, I also realize I often come across as a fanatic or unreasonable, but that’s who I have become. A sensitive woman who’s not afraid to speak her mind.

I stand by who I am.