No shoes, no shirt, no service--my, how uncomplicated life used to be!
I remember growing up in the era of unbearable discrimination. When I was 11, I was visiting my aunt in Baltimore, Md. We went to a wonderful beach, but as we entered, there was a sign stating, "Gentiles Only." I didn't know what that meant, and my aunt told me that no Jews were allowed.
I still didn't know if I was a Gentile or not! I was a Methodist, my friends were Protestants, Catholics, and my friend Lillian was Jewish. I could not think of one difference between us.
I had a wonderful day, but I still could not get that word, Gentile, off my mind. Being born in 1943, I was too young to really know what World War II was about, even though my father served in the Navy. All I remember was a siren going off, lights being turned off, and our heavy curtains being drawn. I remember that vividly. Many years later I had a frightening reaction when I heard my first tornado siren. Somehow the fear of a tornado was nothing like the fear I felt when those sirens went off when I was just a little girl.
We had a maid named Ruthie Mae who worked for my mother, and she was almost as much of a mother to me as was my own. I suppose I knew she looked different, but I didn't think or worry about it. I remember water fountains being marked "white" and "colored." I didn't know why. In grade school, one day I heard the "N" word used, and I thought it was a cuss word. I came home and used that word three times in front of Ruthie Mae. She gently pulled me aside, put me in her lap, and explained what the word meant and why I shouldn't use it.
It broke my heart that I had hurt Ruthie Mae's feelings, and I never uttered that word again.
In high school, I remember boys calling each other "queer," but I associated that with the words "nerd" or "geek" today. I don't know if I misunderstood, or if my entire generation misunderstood.
So much of what went on around me, I suppose I just accepted. I was too young to totally understand, and since our schools were segregated, I didn't get to know people who others considered "different." I do know that I never hated anyone because they were. I am so thankful for that.
I married and raised my children in the '60s, and I really think I was so busy being a wife and mother that I missed the civil-rights marches, murders, and mayhem. By "missed" I mean that they did not impact my life as they should have.
My youngest son's best friend in kindergarten was a black child named Greg. Greg came to our house, and Chris went to his. However, when Greg was invited to Chris' birthday party, the children who lived next door were grabbed by their mother and taken home. It so upset Chris, and I had no idea how to explain to him what happened. All I could say was that Rob and Cathy had a "mean" mother. I did not want my 4-year-old child to have to deal with the ugliness of discrimination. As it happened, other children in Chris' school started having Greg over, and I can never ever put into words the utter joy I felt.
As I write this brief history of my life, I have come to wonder if kindness is in our genes. In our world today, how else can we explain the love on one side and the utter hatred on the other, in dealing with those who only want the same rights that we have?
I have become an activist ... writing letters, signing petitions, and speaking up against intolerance. It makes me happy; it completes those early cycles of my life.
These thoughts came to me as I read about the Supreme Court hearing on marital equality. I am horrified to see the expressions on the faces of those who hate gays and lesbians. I see that look and remember the profound hatred on the face of a white girl screaming at a black girl who only wanted to go to the same school, Central High School here in Little Rock.
The question I keep asking myself is "why?" Why are so many people so angry? What causes this mental breakdown of tolerance? I have read that much of this is caused by fear, but that is just too easy. I truly believe that it is all connected to the human heart ... that "thing" God gave us to express love for all.
I wonder if there will be new signs put out after the Supreme Court ruling. Are we to protect those who want signs in their windows saying, "No shoes, no shirts, no gays, no lesbians, no one who differs from my religious beliefs, or no service"?
It all comes down to nine men and women who will either take us forward or take us backward.
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Sharon Williams lives in Little Rock.
Editorial on 05/08/2015