Racism

Back when I was a young teen, 13 or 14 or so, this was about 1973 or 1974 maybe, I was grocery shopping with my grandfather. Maybe he was 68 or so. We were in the Kroger in Frankfurt, KY, in the produce section and he was looking over the veggies. An older black man was down the other end of the veggies, checking them out also and as the two older men got closer together my grandfather asked the other, similarly aged man, "Hey, Boy, do you see anything you'd consider buying?" or something very close to that. I was raised in the north. In Massachusetts. So, I immediately chided my grandfather for calling a man, "boy" and told him that that was a racial slur and that he should never say such things as that. My grandfather said nothing, but the black man immediately told me that I had no right to say such a thing to men of his and my grandfathers age. That I should respect my elders and never try to correct them, that he had been fighting racism his whole life and he'd be damned if someone was going to step in for him, he'd fight his own damn battles. And he apologized to my grandfather for my poor behavior and told him that clearly my parents hadn't raised me properly. y father died before I was 3 so I can't say he 'raised' me. My mom, she was always working or in school... so I can't say she 'raised' me. Basically I can just say, it's my fault. I guess it is all my fault. I read this post the other day, it's good, I recommend it! http://gawker.com/i-used-to-hate-white-people-1714746295