My racist home
I could have easily become a racist since I grew up in a household where negative comments about other ethnicities were not only tolerated but also normalized. Thankfully, I did not.
What saved me from going down that path was a burning curiosity about other cultures that developed when I was young. It led me to spend my adult life travelling the world and away from the hatefulness that once surrounded me.
I’m not even sure when I became aware that my dad was a bigot, spouting racist comments regularly. He had something disparaging to say about pretty much every nationality and race. He often presented his views as “jokes.”