Growing Up Different

I didn't not have a traditional childhood. We moved quite often, for one reason or another. I didn't go to school at any particular school for two consecutive school years until I was in the 7th grade. After my parents divorced we laid stakes in a small Missouri town an hour outside of St. Louis. Ofallon Missouri. I consider this to be my home town because we lived there from the time I was 12 until I was 22 years old.

I had always been an outsider. I never really lived any where long enough to develop close friendships. Although it was difficult to be introduced into communities where strong bonds had been already forged the experience allowed me to adapt easily and gave me skills that many don't possess. I had met many people, from many different backgrounds. Although we never moved outside our state there is a huge culture difference in the city and farming communities just miles apart. I think this aspect of my childhood was a gift and as much as I hated it as a kid it made life as a Marines wife a breeze.

When we settled in Ofallon we lived next to the McGees. They were also relatively new to the community and had just came from the the city. They were more urban than the small town kids could handle at first. The fact that they were outsiders too made me even more intrigued. We became close. Naturally as the days went on their youngest son, my age...became my little boyfriend. They were good people. I felt lucky to have a second family just nextdoor.

I was relentlessly picked on because of our relationship. I'm sure I'd be picked on for anything regardless. At the time the town was very small. The kids who lived there had known one another since birth and now preteens the alliances were strong.  That made the bond between myself and the McGees even stronger because sometimes we were all we had.

To my unfortunate surprise there was a girl in our grade who shared my first name and Sean McGee's last name. She was quiet and relatively unknown, as hard as that is to believe because soon kids began to call me a whore and ask if were really married to Sean at 12. It went on the rest of the school year. There were rumors I married him because he got me pregnant. The stares were ever present. Looking back I can only laugh. I am pretty sure the faculty got wind of it because they named me "Student of the Week" in an effort to garner positive attention. That only backfired and made the taunting more complex and more impassioned. I remember having to walk home the last quarter of that year because another bus rider, an 8th grader threatened me. 

All because we didn't fit into the mold there in that farm town. Our town didn't have diversity in most respects. There were white people and very few black. We had one or two Hispanics sprinkled in but even in high school we had race fights after school. Massive group fights because of ethnicity and nothing else. It was like being in a time warp, the twilight zone.

Both families of kids, the McGees and ours weren't racist. We knew true friendship was in the loyalty you provide and not in our skin color or obvious commanilaties. As a result we had friends of other races. That made the hatred for us even more palpable. We were called terrible names. "NIGGER LOVERS" was the most memorable and painful. They didn't even try to know our friends just condemned them at first glance.

They would say things like "Black people smell weird." Stuff I knew was hateful and untrue but no matter how hard I tried to explain they were wrong it just furthered their opinion that we were "race traitors".  Did I mention this all took place in the early 1990s?

From then on I was mostly unfavored. I had friendships by high school that I still have now at 36. As strong as they ever were. My closest male friend is Mexican. His father only had a third grade education in Mexico. He came here for a better life for his future family. He worked hard and eventually became the president of his company. He was able to send his only son to a private exclusive college and now his son is a CPA for a major corporation. Their family story is inspiring. Jesus Valenzuela turned nothing but a dream and desire into a legacy. How could anyone NOT admire that?
How could the color of his skin come before that? 

I didn't understand the scope of the issue as a youth. I only knew it was wrong to treat others the way they did. 

When I was given a family tree assignment in the 10th grade I learned the most upsetting piece of information, family history that would be both crushing and liberating at the same time.

I learned my father is a direct descendent of Confederate General Nathan Bedford Forrest. That part was hard enough...knowing my ancestors fought for slavery. But when I began to study him I learned he was also the first Grand Wizard of the KKK. I could feel my ears burning as I read on. The lump in my throat grew. I blinked and tears rolled down my cheeks.

I had a choice in that moment. I could win the favor of all the kids who had relentlessly bullied me for years in sharing this. I would finally be in the fray. Nope. I knew it was wrong. I took an F on the project and kept the info to myself. The first F I recall every earning in high school.

I may be from a line of racist ideals but it does not continue with me. I had always known my family was racist but the history behind it was unbearable. I firmly believe that a man should be judged on the content of his character, not the color of his skin. I believe our background helps form us but does not define who we become.

I have broken the cycle. MY KIDS HAVE NO CLUE WHAT IT IS TO JUDGE ON THIS ALONE. I feel I have done my job as mother in that respect. I have changed hundreds of years of history in my choices.

I know growing up this way was difficult and my opinions were formed prematurely due to my environment but I find it a gift now. My kids may find out our history but they will know it does not predict their future. What they do with the knowledge of our ancestors is theirs to decide.

The children growing up with me only knew what they were taught from their parents. I've safeguarded my kids future. Being military kids they only know diversity. It's not an issue. There is no division, no segregation of race. There are only people. We determine who is worthy of our friendship by how they treat others. There are good and bad people but race, religion, gender, sexual preference will never predetermine bonds.

I am still friends with the Mcgee all these years later. The oldest son is now a grand father himself. We have made many mistakes in life but this is something our grand children will not be ashamed of carrying on. We are good people at the core. I knew it then and I hold it close now. Our kids and grand kids live in the freedom of knowing the truth.