I’m no racist. When I was in junior high, Dad taught in an all-black inner city school, back in the days of the Martin Luther King riots. My sister-in-law teaches in a mostly black school. I graduated from a California high school which had a huge ethnic mix–hispanic, Chinese, Portuguese, Vietnamese, blacks, Filipinos, and various brands of caucasians: Oakies, Arkies, and Texans, who moved out during the Great Depression. My first day of school there, when I left the bus back in our town, I found myself surrounded by a group of blacks as another black tried to pick a fight with me, and everyone was egging us to go at it. Yeah, I was scared spitless, but I managed to walk away intact. From then on, I walked to a different bus stop. Those same guys came over to our house frequently, since the parsonage had a full-court basketball court in back. I played basketball with those blacks–and with bunches of Hispanics–all the time.

At the ping pong club, I enjoy talking to the various immigrants who show up. There are probably a half dozen guys of Chinese ancestry. There are several Hispanics–Panama, Peru, Cuba, and elsewhere. This week there were two new guys. One seemed to be arabic or persian. He was GOOD, too. I’d like to get to know him. All of these immigrants have interesting stories.

Then yesterday I went to the dentist for a routine cleaning. Normally Becky is my hygienist, but she’s on maternity leave, so I let them set me up with Lonnie, a new girl. I arrived at the office, and there was a black girl standing in the receptionist’s area. I hadn’t seen her before. I told her I had an 8:30 appointment, then sat down in the waiting room. A minute later, she came out with a folder. I figured it contained information for me to update. Then she said, “We’re ready for you now. I’m Lonnie.”

And I began kicking myself for assuming that this new black girl must be the receptionist, and not a professionally-trained hygienist. Some people would say I was just showing some kind of racist stereotyping or exhibiting latant racism lurking within my core being. But I think I just made a simple mistake, an errant assumption…BASED on some kind of stereotyping, I guess. I don’t know. I’m confused.

Anyway, Lonnie was great. I like her better than Becky, and asked specifically for Lonnie the next time. And I ask myself again: is that just the playing out of some white guilt? Over-compensating by making sure I make a choice in favor of an African-American? I don’t want to think so, but…maybe I did?

This is all complicated. And it’s made more complicated by the Jesse Jacksons and Al Sharptons, who continually tell us we’re a bunch of racists, even if we don’t think we are. And I resent that. But there’s a mixture of truth and untruth there, and I’m not smart enough to sort it all out.

Am I racist, and just don’t realize it?