You don’t need another white woman talking about her “come to Jesus” moment with black oppression in this country, but if you’re curious, you’re welcome to keep reading.
The LA Riots (of Rodney King fame) took place when I was 12. I remember watching the news coverage. I wrote about it in my small journal (that I still have!). I need to go dig it out. We lived 15 minutes away from the epicenter (Southern California calculates by minutes, not miles).
I remember being afraid. I thought all those black people were going to come and shoot up our house and set fire to everything. I thought this way because of the media portrayals, the language use, and the lack of exposure to black culture in every-day life. Everyone in my neighborhood was white, and I was privy to some racist conversations in various situations—never as bold as using the “N” word, but demeaning and stereotypical all...
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