Where Does Racism Start? More Importantly, How Do We Stop It?
Exercise the power you have in your own backyard
We were walking to a restaurant in the city where my son lives, when a BMW hopped the curb in front of us and a man of color jumped out and grabbed me. I was shocked, but noticed my son laughing, just as I was picked up in a bear hug and heard, “MRS. STRAV!! HOW’VE YOU BEEN?”
Realizing he knew me, I giggled, although I could barely breathe. I had tears running down my face when he finally put me down. Tears of joy.
“BRIAN ARON!” (although that is not his real name) I yelled back once I was on my feet, thinking straight.
We caught up in 2 minutes, before he said, “I have to move my car, but let’s get together!” and took off.
I flashed back to the moment when we first met some 15 years prior.
A Bumpy Start
My sons, Stephen and David, were in elementary school when they came home and reported they were being picked on by Brian and his brother T.J.
“I don’t like him,” Stephen reported.
“Really? Why is that?” I asked.
“He’s a troublemaker,” Stephen announced.
