I grew up very poor among Japanese Americans, Native Americans, Filipinos, and whites like me of all income levels. Like a lucid dream I clearly remember the first time I experienced racism.
A smarmy smooth-talking officer from the local base walked into Mom and Dad’s home-cooking cafe and let Mom know that she did not have to serve the “Negro” family that had just moved to our little island. The African-American gentleman was also an officer and also from the deep South like this man.
That white officer did learn about intolerance. However, not in the way he expected.
All 5-foot-2 of Mom grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and the seat of his pants and literally threw him out on the street. “You’re never going to be served here again.”
That mix of cultures and ethnicities gave me a tolerance for most people, but I have my prejudices, too. So when I hear a presidential candidate say he is, “Not concerned with the very poor,” I think back to that morning.
