I Didn’t Understand
This is the first time I am sharing this story publicly. I have told it often to people who I thought needed to hear how lack of understanding can be met with learning, kindness and growth vs continued ignorance but I never wrote it down
As many know I grew up in the midwest on a ranch in Chesterfield, Missouri. Far from the city and far from most of our neighbors who in many cases were miles away.
What many of you don’t know is that I also lived near a town now called Westland Acres. Many knew it as “Little Africa” or “The Hill”. As a child to me it was Church Rd and the last stop on the way to school.
I remember the first day our bus travelled up that windy, dusty hill packed full of rambunctious kids ready for the first day of school. I peeked out the window and saw a world I never knew existed. It was an entire community of Black people, not one White person in sight. Even more surprising they had a school right there, a post office, church, stores and pretty much everything a community would need.
As we rounded the last turn I saw the reason we were there. About 10 Black children standing with their parents and numerous other community members at the bus stop. Some were hugging, some were crying but everyone was scared…
I didn’t know much at that age, but I knew fear and it was deeply etched in every face outside my bus window.
I remember being completely baffled by this, I didn’t understand why a group of Black kids and their community would fear a bus full of people like me.
I didn’t understand but I would learn about that fear and so much more from the children who stepped on that bus. They milled around anxiously looking for seats together which a few found, but not all. As luck would have it the seat next to me was open, as it often was, since I was pretty much a loner and a girl my age sat down. She was crying and visibly shaken. I remember feeling completely unable to understand what was going on or why someone would be so upset on the first day of school. As the long bus ride droned on she calmed down I introduced myself and asked her “Are you okay?”. She said “no”, I asked why and this started a daily routine and an education I treasure to this day. An education that changed the way I saw the world. You see I had a Black friend here and there but I had no idea what was really going on in our country or what de-segregation meant or why it was being done. I had always been taught that all people are equal no matter what, skin color, upbringing, money, power none of those made one person better than another. The world felt otherwise…
Each day she would get on the bus and each day she would tell more about her community and how and why it came to be. Her town was founded by a former slave whose name was William West. He purchased the 100 acre plot, some say for $5, after being emancipated. It started with a church and from there sprung up houses, then a school, then a post office and before long it was a thriving community. They were almost completely self contained since they grew and raised their own food.
Of course de-segregation changed all this and the bus I was on was the first (or one of them) to take children from their neighborhood school to be integrated. For those who think desegregation happened much earlier you are right, the law was passed, but enforcing it especially in the countryside happened much later and with great resistance. There were many times when the bus trundled up the hill escorted by police cars to be met by angry parents and terrified children who didn’t want their community disturbed.
I could try to say this time and the stories I was told helped me understand but the thing that stayed with me was the look of sheer terror on the faces of the families as their children were bussed off to a de-segregated school. I could not and will not ever understand but I do appreciate the fear having seen and heard about it directly.
People often ask “what can I do” and many don’t have the benefit of seeing the impact of racism in its raw form. As you might imagine this time had a profound impact on me and from then on I worked hard to do what I could to make a difference. My acts were small and probably insignificant but one, on this day in particular, stands out.
Years later I went to USC and didn’t get on campus housing so was stuck in “the bad neighborhood” which as many know is one of the worst in LA and right next to Watts. I made many friends there but one man, who I met on campus, became one of my closest friends. We were both a little lost but he had been at a junior college to get his grades up while I was at USC so I helped show him around, gave him tips and yes showed him how I met woman. At the time this involved saying hi to people I didn’t even know and hanging out near the bookstore introducing myself. I was a member of a fraternity and yes it was a typical mostly White house and in fact we didn’t have one Black member. The house hadn’t had a Black member since anyone could remember and certainly not since the 70s.
Perhaps a bit naive and believing California was a much less likely place for racism I recruited this man to join the fraternity. I was rush chairman and it was my job to recruit great people to the house and he was a great man, smart, kind, funny and an incredible athlete on the USC Football team.
Everything went fine until it came time to vote for which candidates would get into the fraternity. It only took one member of the house to say no for a candidate to be dropped.
My friends name came up and I talked about what a benefit he would be to the house, my experiences with him and left it to a vote. One member stood up and said “no”. I asked why and he responded without pausing “because I don’t want a Black person in my house”. I was shocked and for several moments didn’t say a word. Then I remembered all those moments on that bus, witnessing the pain and fear in the residents of Westland Acres and I blurted out “Well then I don’t want to be in this house. It’s him or me”. Thus ensued one of the most vigorous debates you can imagine and in the end he was admitted. Of course the story isn’t over and there were many more incidents and moments where I had to stand sometimes side by side with him to keep people from “messing” with him or saying derogatory things. While others were at the college bars I was often at the house while he was doing his “pledge” duties with me guiding drunk fraternity members the other way so no one harassed him or said something that we all know some would have said. As the year wound on we had the ability to choose a little brother. While I had someone else in mind, who I had known longer and been closer to, I chose this man.
He went on to become one of the most celebrated players in USC history and had a 15 year NFL career breaking many records. While we live in different cities we chat once in a while and recently, out of the blue, he said
“I was also thinking about our ‘SC days, and I want to say that I appreciate how kind you were to me. You took me under your wing and I look back and think how awesome that was.”
I have to imagine that little girl I met on the bus would smile knowing that she had an impact on me and in turn a bit of kindness on my part made a small difference in a great man’s life. Often I think we get caught up in grand gestures or “making an impact”…maybe it just starts with asking “are you okay”, trying to understand and one act of kindness.
