Perspective on the South

Growing up in the south taught me quite a lot about acceptance and tolerance. My family was from the north, and they always taught me that everyone was equal. I was born in Huntsville, Alabama, a town built by technology and the military. Scientists from every walk of life, every color imaginable, every religion mix here. Men and women from all over the nation are stationed here on Redstone Arsenal Military Base. As a child, I foolishly thought that there wasn't too big of a problem anymore.

I went to schools filled with a diverse mix of children. I had friends of all colors, shapes, and sizes, and I never really thought about race until I was about eleven. Even then I never really considered that race might still be a problem. I heard the occasional use of the word honkey, and I was called oreo when hanging out with my black friends. However, these were almost used as terms of endearment. I, a white girl, won the black history bee in sixth grade, and nothing derogotory was said about that.

Only once in my middle school career, did it occur to me that significance could be placed on color. One morning, they announced over the intercom, that the Huntsville Space and Rocket Center was awarding a scholarship to space camp. It was an essay contest, and I was determined to win it. I wrote out my essay; I worked a week on it. I wrote and rewrote it until I knew that I was sure to win. Then I went to the front office to request an entry application. The secretary laughed in my face. "You have to be black to win this award." Later I learned that they give a scholarship each year to every school in the city, but only black students could apply. I was angry.

Even then, I didn't fully understand exactly how bad things still were. My transition to high school went smoothly. I still had the same friends that I'd always had. Freshman year came and went, and then we moved. We no longer lived inside the city limits, so I had to go to a county school. We'd only moved about fifteen miles, but the difference was colossal. I went from being a white person in a mixed school of about two thousand, to being another white person in a predominantly white school of five hundred and fifty. I wasn't well received, and things got even worse when I befriended a few of the twenty or so "ethnic" students. "N- Lover," "Coon," "Spook," and "Blue Gums," were a few of the words I began to hear on a regular basis.

It didn't change the way I looked at other races. It changed the way I looked at mine. I went through a period of self-loathing. I felt guilty for my ignorance. I honestly had had no idea that things were still that bad. I began to wonder if my ignorance was part of what could let racism continue? I don't know if there was something I could have done to change those people's minds. I don't know if things will ever be different, but I'm not going to contribute to the problem.