Like an open wound that refuses to heal, racism continues to be a social problem in America. Whether it be the venomous remarks or blatant discrimination against a specific group, its presence cannot be denied. Much has been written about the destructive wrath racism has played throughout history. History books are filled with countless pages detailing crusades for equality and the many obstacles that hindered those valiant journeys.

In the perfect world, racism would not exist. Unfortunately, the world we live in today is far from perfect. The mere thought of growing up in the mid 1960’s in the predominantly black Bedford-Stuyvesant section of Brooklyn, New York during the height of numerous civil rights movements and being white would send chills down the spine of most people. Although my story is unique, I was fortunate enough to experience a segment of my life that most people will never encounter. Being the only white student in an all black school was a life experience I still remember vividly, despite the passing of four decades.

Entering elementary school in the fall of 1964 as a first-grader was special to me not only because it was my first introduction to a formal education, but because it posed special challenges that most children would never have to contend with. Although my parents tried to prepare me for what to expect on the first day of school, nothing could truly prepare a six-year old for that moment when they are introduced into a classroom atmosphere with twenty-five children of the opposite race. What I recall most vividly on that brisk September morning was not the 25 curious faces looking at me as I was introduced to the class, but the realization that I was different. What I learned that morning was a lesson that I have carried with me my entire life - that being different is no excuse to feel threatened or intimidated. When I read about racism in our schools today, it only gets me discouraged that the effort isn’t being put forth to recognize that we are all the same despite varying shades of skin color. I will never forget how welcome those students made me feel in my class and throughout the school, despite my obvious differences. I was accepted for who I was and was never penalized for not sharing their skin color. I am forever grateful for their neutrality and unbiased values. Throughout the four years I spent at that elementary school, I can honestly say that I never encountered any negative situation based on racial differences. That’s not to say I never had any arguments with my fellow classmates, because I had many. These memories have tremendous value to me not only for personal reasons, but for much more obvious reasons that encompass a far larger scale. We must ebb the flow of racism in this country and focus our energy on eradicating the crippling unwritten doctrine that asserts the superiority of one race over another. Too much of American history has been filled with bias and hatred, and it has proven to be a tremendous disservice to everyone who has been the target of its wrath. Unless we heal this wound, its pus will continue to spill into communities throughout America. We cannot erase history, but we can all plot a new path.