The Race Card Project
By Michele Norris
Elizabeth Hess,
New Haven, CT.
That photo is the end paper of my yearbook, Weaver High School, Hartford, Connecticut, 1975. I was one of about 15 white kids in a huge city school. I loved the laughter in the hallways, the treasured friendships, the “take me as I am-ness” of the classmates I most wanted to sit next to. I was brave and outspoken by association, happy to be a part of a community made up of the coolest kids on the planet.
Janet Urban
Aurora, IL
I was raised in a small all-white town and never saw a black person except on TV until I was 17 (1975). From the first experience I was confused as to racism. What I saw was fellow human beings who happened to look different. From that point on I refused to engage in any negative conversations about people of other ethnic backgrounds, which sometimes makes for some awkward times within my own family. Thirty Six years later, I am glad that so much has changed in equality, but I also see there is still a long way to go. I hope I live long enough to see the world when racist is a dirty word and there is no more “N” word.
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