Today at lunch I experienced something pretty unusual to say the least.
I had lunch with a couple in their mid 40s, and a colleague and his 12 year old daughter (teacher union meeting day, no school). We had lunch in a local chain restaurant. As some of you know, I live in West Virginia, so there aren’t too many minorities here. As we were almost done a group of black youths come in with baggy pants, and admittedly, they were loud and obnoxious.
Well, the couple started making some racial comments. The substance isn’t important, and I am usually tolerant of those things, but I saw the 12 year old girl there. Her father was also upset with the comments. We lobbed a few jabs back across the table about how there were a lot of obnoxious white kids with baggy pants, but pretty much left it cordial and walked out.
The couple were parked on the other side of the lot, so I walked with father and daughter. In a poignant moment, father stopped his daughter and said the following (paraphrasing, but it was a damn good speech):
"I want you to know that what they said about black people in there wasn’t right. You know about slavery and about how blacks used to not be able to eat in the same restaurants as us. Well, what happened in there is the last thing we need to stop. WE don’t judge people based upon the color of their skin. I don’t want you doing it. What (couple) said is wrong and it is not what most people believe any more.
Your generation will put a stop to this. When I grew up, it was okay to say stuff like that and to think stuff like that. Don’t let yourself think that. Don’t hate people and say bad stuff about people because of what they look like. We are better than that. YOU are better than that."
The sparkle in the girl’s eyes was wonderful. Hell, I had a sparkle in my eye and wished that I could give as good of a talk to my daughter as he did.
Then, the little girl said (and there was more conversation than this, but it culminated in a story about how one of her friends’ father was upset that she wanted to go out with a black boy) so it’s okay if I am good friends with (same boy).
The look on the formerly racially sensitive father’s face was priceless. It was one of horror as if he wasn’t ready to take that step. “You can be FRIENDS,” he said with emphasis on that last word, then we left.
I had to chuckle in the car. Two more generations, I think. Then we’ll be there.