This is a small diary, and probably not of much consequence, but I will publish it anyway.
I grew up in the segregated south, as a white boy of privilege.
I didn't think about colored and white drinking fountains; they were part of my daily world.
Not one african american student ever attended my thirteen years of public school.
The year I matriculated at the University of Florida was the year that the first african american students were admitted to that tax supported institution.
I didn't think much about it one way or the other, until some cracker mother-fuckers lit a gasoline cross on the lawn in front of their dorm (Two girls, since no one could be expected to room with a nigger).
That kind of pissed me off.
So I joined SSOC and did Mississippi Summer. Years later, when I was a professor in Mississippi, I helped desegregate a laundry near campus that maintained that nigras could not operate machinery. I got fired for that, but it was no loss.
And tonight I answered my door to trick or treaters, and what ho: three litle African American kids, and their painfully middle-class parents were on my doorstep.
VOTE TUESDAY. I said, as I handed out the candy.
And god bless us all for rising above ourselves.
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