Martin Luther King, Jr. Day

My husband lived in a desegregated area of Denver when I met him. It was a mix of large, really nice houses along 17th avenue, with a garden/park/grassed median between the two sides of the roads in front of the mansions. On the feeder streets perpendicular to 17th Avenue there were big houses to the north and smaller houses to the south.

I was pretty young and then away in isolated college/self absorption non tv pre-adulthood when all the desegregation movement grew in Denver. I remember the mandatory busing of the schools. My niece who was 12 years younger than I was bused to a black area in the inner city.

The house Dave and I lived in before and after we got married was on the south, smaller house side. Since he's an architect, he really was entranced with the house because it was made of stone blocks, finished on the front street side and roughly cut on the sides. The roughly cut sides were really neat. We found a secret Mason rite and ritual book and some Confederate money in the basement. It made sense that a mason had built the house, affording what he could, which was not a big house.

Anyway, the neighborhood had all kinds of races and it was a good experience to become familiar with other cultures. We had a wild druggy guy's mother next to us, and he lived kitty corner a few blocks away. His face had that wasted look, like when you're losing your teeth. His sons got into drugs, shooting off guns, breaking into cars, and stealing bikes from the nice gay couple across the street, who had the audacity to leave their garage door open. They were Caucasian and a real pain in the butt.

The mom, who was pretty trim and tidy, and did a lot of gardening and lawn mowing, rented to a black mom and her son who lived in the duplex in front of the druggy's mother half of the house.. They were very unobtrusive, sometimes you could hear the junior high son practicing rap lyrics. He also called Dave, Mr. Dave.

On the other side was a bustling black family, a sister and her siblings, all in their early twenties. They were working and coming and going at all times. They were normally pretty quiet except when friends would come over and everyone started talking really loud, and in that singsong voice Oprah uses when she's with a brother or sister. Then their friends would honk their car goodbye at 3:00 in the morning, and they did leave the tv on pretty loud all through the night.

The one thing I noted that was different with this family is the hats the women wore to church, they were great, and they went with their outfits really nicely. I don't even know where you would buy hats like that. I guess I do remember some nice hat departments in stores when I was younger. But these were silky and shiny and just looked really cool.

There were all kinds of churches on 17th Avenue between the mansions and some smaller houses. Some referenced the desegregation like "Unity on the Avenue". Our friends got married in one that had brochures on reincarnation in the front hallway. But you could tell an effort was made to bring people together, and to respect different folks.

I'm glad the desegregation started. I do remember feeling guilty when we'd drive by the bus stop at busy Colfax and Colorado Boulevard, and see that most of the people waiting for a bus were black or Hispanic. I felt isolated and sheltered in my heated or air conditioned, glassed in car.

I think society has to evolve to the point where everyone, as Immanuel Kant said, treats each other as an end in themself, not a means to an end. It's the golden rule, treat others as you would chose to be treated. Don't use, exploit or feel superior to anyone else. And remember, we all have our struggles in life, respect that that may be why your neighbor isn't thinking straight at times, and try to exhibit patience and compassion.

I first posted this on my Vox site and got a reply about the hats, here's a quote from James Baldwin:



"Our crowns have already been bought and paid for. All we have to do is wear them."
-James Baldwin