ABSTRACT
I grew up in the ’60s and ’70s, when it seemed as if the nation was on fire with change and conflict. Like so many others at the time, I became fixated on the civil rights movement, the race riots around the country, and the aftermath of the assassinations of John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King Jr., and Bobby Kennedy. I recall that feeling of sadness and utter disbelief when King was shot. It was jarring. Yet, I always felt comforted to have parents like mine, who were open-minded and progressive in their thinking about race. I always felt they stood on the right side of the divide. My mother, in particular, as both a teacher and an individual, was aligned with King’s message on judging people by the content of their character, rather than the color of their skin, and his perspective on combating racial inequality through nonviolence.
