An Open Door for Diversity

Midway through my middle school days, we moved to our 3rd house (since moving to Texas).  It would be the house that I remember the most and probably have the most fond memories from because it included the end of middle school (and in 8th grade you're "kings" of the school so that was a great year) and my whole high school career.  It was also the house that I moved out of and into my college dorm my freshman year.  So, I definitely consider that house "home"....at least my Texas home.  Our house in Iowa on the farm will always be HOME to me, though.

With 4 kids in the house (my older brother, myself and a younger sister and brother), there was always something going on...usually sports.  My older brother played basketball; my younger sister played soccer and took dance lessons; my younger brother played soccer, baseball and basketball; and I took dance lessons.  And that's probably just a short list of all the activities we all had going on.  So needless-to-say, my parents were full-time taxi cab drivers for several years until I got my license.  Then I got to help out and cart my little sister and brother around to their activities, too.  Since my older brother played basketball it was common for his basketball friends to come over often.  Obviously they were all tall (mostly 6'5" and 6'7") and a few of them were African American who became really great friends of the family, as well.  And since my little brother played soccer, he had a lot of Hispanic friends that would come over and play pick-up games in front of the house.  And then there was me coming in and out of the house on a daily basis.  One day a neighbor (who was African American) across the street made a comment to my dad that our house was the most diverse house he had ever seen.  He had never seen so many different ethnicity's coming and going from a house than ours.  It was something none of us had really thought about...we were just doing what we were doing.  But, it was a good lesson learned in how open and accepting each of us kids were in whatever we were doing to not see the color beside us, but to see the person.  That acceptance comes from where we grew up (in Iowa and the people around us), but also from our parents. 

I never met that neighbor, but I always remember his comment and how profound it was.  Also because several months later someone had spray painted derogatory phrases on his garage door just because of his color.  Shameful and sad. 

But, in our household...no matter where that may be...I'm just one in the mix.  A mix of loud opinions (now that we're all adults) and a mix of colorful people and flavors!