The Armchair Activist
By DeeAnn Veeder
When I was a kid, I had a dream of having a child of every race, a noble dream for a young blonde child; I thought if families were made up of every race, there wouldn’t be hatred or prejudice, and I would start with my own. Realistically, though, how many children would that be? And, well, so many men, so little time. I only made it as far afield as Italians, then I married a Jew and had two white children. Fifteen years later, I notice I’m living in a predominantly white small town. But I am not a racist. Right?