Dad was racist. I fought him.

William G Doyle Jr.,
Castle Rock, CO.

From the time I could remember my father expressed his racism against African Americans. I fought him because of it throughout my life. Usually it exposed itself the most after we would go to church and listen to beautiful sermons about God’s love for all people and then come home and he’d yell at the football game on the TV saying, “Those Damn ‘N*****s’, they should all be shipped back to Africa.” When I was young, I didn’t know what to say and felt ashamed. As I got older, I would challenge him with his hypocrisy and get into shouting matches. When our high schools in Mpls had race riots because of busing, I wanted to go down and protest on the behalf of desegregation. He wouldn’t let me, and said I would disgrace his family. Mostly, I felt a sense of embarrassment that this was my dad. These arguments continued into my adult life and I got tired of trying to win this fight with him. My mom and siblings just wanted to keep the peace and would admonish me to keep quiet, for their sake. So, I kept quiet and did the best I could to live a life filled with respect and love for all people regardless of race, religion, gender and sexual orientation. My parents are gone now, but I still think about the racism that was in my home growing up. I still feel ashamed.


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