My parents had my twin sister and me in 1983 when my mom was 48 and my dad was 35. If you’ve done the math, you’ve determined that my mom was born in 1935 and my dad was born in 1948. I grew up in a town so small that we were bussed to a larger ”city” a few miles way, and many other small towns did the same. Our schools were a melting pot, and we were taught to treat everyone with respect. We had friends: some White, some Black, a few Asian. But race never really came up... we were kids, we didn’t really understand the concept of I“race”. One day in high school, we had just finished a big choral concert and we were all onstage hugging our friends, enjoying a successful evening. That night, my mom said to us, “you know, I had to stop myself from running up to you both and telling you not to hug your Black friends in public. I know you have Black friends, I have no problem with you having Black friends, but something deep inside made me panic, forgetting that it’s now socially acceptable for people of different races to be seen embracing in public.” It was eye opening to me, and something we’ve discussed in the years since then. My mom still struggles with understanding systemic racism and that what she saw and was taught in her formative years is now antiquated. My sister and I were so blessed to have parents who trusted us to make the right decisions growing up and to act with acceptance and understanding toward everyone, even when they themselves didn’t really understand it and grew up in times when segregation and anti miscegenation were the rule.