I’ve been on the fence about whether I had something relevant to say here. I was one of these kids almost half a century ago.
I had a black nanny for the first few years of my life in Florida. My mom died before I was two, so was handled by many people, but having a black caretaker was a common thing in the South, but pre-70s, just on the verge of change.
Later in Kansas, I did have a 20-something black male babysitter. I think it was 1971-1972. My new stepmother had my two brothers in quick succession, so again I was handled by several people to give her some relief.
Desegregation was in full swing, and my preacher father was befriending the progressive youth, and I was given to the boyfriend of a biracial couple to go do whatever we wanted. One thing that stands out is a trip to see a touring company performance of You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown.
It was a heady time. Our elementary school was named after Toussaint L’Ouverture, the Haitian revolutionary. Group meetings of classes singing Three Dog Night songs together (Black and White, Joy to the World). It’s only decades later that I realize what a bubble I’d been living in because my parents were likely trying to shield me from racist influences.
It just seems so frustrating that for so long people have fought for equity and equality, only to have it undermined by others who can’t even muster the logic, much less the kindness, to see that separatism and xenophobia never result in a win for everyone involved.
ETA: I really wish I knew what became of him. My heart tells me he was a really cool guy, and my memories paint him as looking kind of like Georg Stanford Brown.
