Bobbi McCullen,
Atlanta, GA
I remember the first time I was made aware of “race”. My family had just moved to a new town, and it was my first day of 3rd grade. I knew no one, so when lunch time came around, I just found the closest open seat at the lunch tables, sat down, nervously said “hi” to the strangers around me, and started eating. I realized that the little boy I’d sat next to was just staring at me. When I asked if something was wrong, he told me “people like you don’t sit with people like me.” His tone wasn’t combative – it was of shock and disbelief. I had to ask him what he meant. He explained that he was black and that I was white. He thought I’d made a mistake sitting with him, because in that small town in central Georgia, white people avoided him or looked down on him. To this day, over 25 years later, I still think about Demarcus, and it still breaks my heart that anyone, especially a child, would ever feel that way. So to anyone out there – I sit with people like you. And I hope that you would be willing to sit with me, too.
