a long languishing dip

In 1966, in Pittsburgh, a few friends and myself became volunteers in what was one of the first open classroom schools in what was then a very "black" and poor neighborhood. We were a part of the 60's rebellion, and felt it was more important to reach out then always reach in and stay with safe boundaries.

We totaled about 6 white middle class Jewish juniors in high school, and once a week made our three hour after school visit to the East Hills School to tutor, plan activities and meet school aged kids from a neighborhood we most likely would never ever visit or really know too much about.

We had been joined in our tutoring chores with another 6 African American juniors and throughout the year built a quiet rapport with our counterparts, albeit once a week, but enough time for both of us to learn more and more about people who otherwise might be as foreign to us if they were living over seas.

It was mid year and the East Hills School faculty wanted to do something to thank all the tutors, so it being near Christmas, decided to have a holiday party. They asked all the tutors to attend in a sense of brotherhood. The five of my friends and I said we would go. The event was at night, and on a weekend. We thought very little of the time of day and the fact that the majority of the faculty would not be present and in fact that there would not be a private guard watching the parking lot.

But even cautioned by our parents to be careful, and some other friends who said you are going THERE at night; we went. All six of us piled into one huge car.

We arrived early and much to the delight of our children we tutored, we mingled and danced and had an enjoyable time. We even managed to meet some of the parents, and all in all felt we had made some kind of contribution in engaging the "black community", and having them learn more about middle class white Jewish kids.

Then it was time to leave the school, walk about 50 yards to the parking lot. And then it was as if we were suddenly somewhere else, somewhere scary and somewhere very unfriendly.

East Hills School was built in the middle of a Pittsburgh housing project. It was the first attempt for the Board of Education to build schools on par to the many "white student " schools, but still keeping it segregated.

As my friends and I walked out of the school towards the car we were confronted by about a dozen teen aged kids. They were in a straight line blocking our way to he parking lot. My friends and I did not want seem intimidated but suddenly we all felt fear and worry and thought what is going to happen.

The ring leader of the group stood in front of the group and said "...you whities don't belong here. You come here and teach OUR kids how to be white, they are Negroes and you need to stay away. All you whities want to do is make our black skin tan."

My friends and I were kind of shocked. Is that what we were doing? No, we were there to work with a population of kids, we were told, that needed some extra motivation and needed some positive reinforcement so they would continue in school and out of poverty and gangs.

We started to move forward, all of us silent and the line of black teens moved one step closer to us, with the leader once again pontificating. "...you whities are all the same, and you want US to be just like you..."

We all thought there was going to be some kind of violence. But from the school came some of our counter tutors who immediately stepped in front of us and yelled back at their peers. They told the very angry group of teens, that they (the teens) had no idea of what they were talking about and before you hate anybody you had better get to know them and learn who they are as individuals.

A group sigh of relief ensued, brief however, as our co-tutors said you had better walk fast to your car. And we left.

I lived in Houston in the early and mid 80's and was active in the NAMES Project as well as the Jewish community in Houston.

I was finally secure in being gay, and was out and almost as proud as I could be. I felt it my duty to act as liaison between the Jewish population and the LBGT population to educate both communities about the perceived differences and similarities both demographic groups were comprised of.

One big opportunity I thought was to invite some of the Jewish community to march in the Gay Pride Parade under the banner of the NAMES Project. A few Jewish families had lost their children to HIV/AIDS, and needed a way to talk about their grief, so marching in a parade which hopefully was about inclusiveness would be the perfect answer.

I approached a handful of families and discussed this chance to express their acceptance of their LGBT children as well as help educate heir friends and family about HIV/AIDS.

At first the idea was thought to be a perfect meeting of the minds. A parade seemed harmless, it was with a nationally known group the NAMES Project, and it seemed like fun.

Then someone who knew someone who knew someone, said they heard that this parade had as a part of it, something called dykes on bikes, the Men of Houston Leather Club, and some people walking their boy/girlfriends with a leash and chains.

It was a form of debauchery some of the people added, and not the right thing to do.

Then two women looked at the three family members who had lost their sons to AIDS, and said, if all the people were like your sons, straight looking, intelligent, normal we would not mind marching. But these are freakish people, its just not right.

Needless to say and sorry to say, we had the three families whose sons had died of HIV, march and no one else.

In the year 2009, the U.S. Senate, is holding hearings on the nomination of Judge Sonia Sotomayor. She is being questioned by a whole group of Southern Senators who happen to white middle aged men and who seem to be skeptical about Judge Sotomayor thinking as a Latina. She has had a different background and set of life experiences, and that because of that difference she is not too qualified to abide by the laws that for the most part white middle aged men have established, so they say.

It seems Senator Lindsey Graham of South Carolina, Senator Jeff Sessions of Alabama, and Senator John Cornyn of Texas, find the fact that that Ms Sotomayor who is a Latina might think that her (unique) experiences would have her interpreting the law differently than three white men, and that interpretation will be full of bigotry and bias. Judge Sotomayor will not see things as they should be seen, but from a pair of eyes with different vision.

In this country, it seems we talk about diversity, but if it is too diverse and too unlike what we set the stereotypes to be like, or too unlike what it is we can perceive then diversity is really uncomfortable and wrong.

The Black kids at East Hills School, knew white people to only be one way, and there was going to be no recognition that their assumption was wrong.

The Middle Class Jewish families in Houston knew that nice Jewish gay boys were okay, but the rest of the LGBT community were lechers, perverts and debauchers.

And the three Southern middle aged white Senators think if it is a Latina, she must not be able to think with the same of principles as they.

Why are we so limited in really understanding the positives of diversity? Why are our uneducated pre-existing standards always so hard to remove? Why do we only talk about diversity, but never ever take a long languishing dip in the pool of understanding?

Why is different okay to a point?