(Click on the title to read the entire post.) Unlike the South, racial biases of the white residents of Harrisburg where hushed; in polite society, such things were not discussed. The community in the North in which I was raised reflected comedian and activist Dick Gregory’s characterization: “In the South, they don’t mind how close I get, so long as I don’t get too big. In the North, they don’t mind how big I get, so long as I don’t get too close.”
(Click on the title to read the entire post) I should note that I am as white as white can be. My hair is white, my eyes are blue, my skin is pink except for when I've had a second glass of red wine or when I discover I have written something really stupid in my blog—then my skin flushes red; further, my ethnic background is "suburban," and I have been known to say "holy cow” and the like on occasion. Imagine my surprise when, during a session of “Courageous Conversations about Race,” I found myself totally at a loss to answer this question: What does it mean to be White in America?