1. I went with my father-in-law for some of his medical tests. A nurse walked in, carrying a big smile, a friendly disposition, a great sense of humor. We really liked her a lot.
But, I couldn’t help but notice that she was black.
2. One of the Bible studies I go to has about 10 men. I really like James because he and I always interrupt to ask questions. He’s always thinking.
I couldn’t help but notice that he is black.
3. The nurse was having a conversation with us, and I mentioned James as a friend.
I said he is a black man who grew up Catholic.
(Wendy later questioned why I felt that his skin color was a necessary insertion.)
4. Wendy and I watch a lot of cooking competitions, and we usually root for the one that appears to be the nicest.
Sometimes we choose a white person.
Sometimes we choose a person of a different skin color.
I may say, “I’m rooting for the black girl.”
5. We have a gas station in Hawkins that is run by a middle eastern man.
I noticed it right away.
He has a bit of an accent.
I asked him where he is from.
I love the chicken tenders there.
He is nice, and often gives me an extra piece of chicken.
6. When I stop at a store sometimes on the way home, I am really tired.
My tired face looks pretty frowny.
When I see someone of color, I try to smile and say hello.
I don’t do this for everybody.
My problem is, I can’t help but notice.
So, does that make me a racist?