Race in my life

I'm going to start off with some background information about myself and then explain my views on race. I grew up in a middle class family. I went to an elementary school that was predominantly white but it never once struck me as an odd thing. As a child I didn't have opinions on race, not to say I didn't notice racism, but I didn't understand why an individual might be treated differently based solely on skin color or body shape. I went to Hershey Elementary, a public school, up until fifth grade. After fifth grade I moved out to where my family is currently, Bethel, Pennsylvania, and I was home schooled for sixth, seventh, and eighth grade. When it was time for me to enter 9th grade I decided to return to public school.

I remember when I was about seven years old I was at a family get together and a friend of one of my uncle's was saying the word "nigger." Now, being seven, I obviously didn't understand the definition of the term. I did however understand it was a bad word and that I would never say it. Even though I didn't understand at the time, the racist mind-set was still prevalent in my life. I learned to recognize what was a curse word, versus what was a racial slur. In my extended family's eyes, the two weren't the same. Racial slurs and derogatory terms were fine, but swearing wasn't. It's quite absurd really.

When I was 14 my family took a trip to Florida. There is a lot of racism in Florida. Now, being raised in a middle class family and living in a suburban area for half my life then moving to a completely rural area had kind of made me blind to how much racism there was. When we arrived in Florida my aunt was having a party and invited around 40 people. The people included family from Florida and a few of their friends that lived in the area. We had all just ate and we were sitting outside enjoying some pie for dessert. Somehow, the topic was switched to politics and a friend of someone in my family said "Oh yeah all these fucking people trying to elect that fucking nigger." As soon as the man finished his sentence I stood up suddenly, knocking over my chair. I freaked out. I just yelled at him, inches from his face, "How fucking dare you say that?" I then proceeded to go inside the house before I physically accosted the man. I walked inside the house seething, just not even able to comprehend how anyone could say what he said with the nonchalance that he said it with. He said it so normally. Like. "Oh do you need more tea, dear?" It was absolutely dumb founding to me. I just couldn't understand it what so ever.

 My parents, as rarely as it occurs now because they know how I feel about it, exhibit racism. They understand it's immoral to judge a person based on skin color, but they continually do so anyway. They both more specifically have issues with people of any Middle Eastern descent. My dad says "towel head" in reference to them and my mom refers to most Easterners as "Haji's." This didn't really occur when I was younger. My parents curbed a lot of their negativity around my sister and I. They were the type of parents that waited until their kids fell asleep to argue. Anyway, as I got older my parents started being more lenient. They would let a racial slur slip here or there and act like it was nothing. This racism stems from their being brought up in racist households. Both of my grand fathers were incredibly racist.