What My Dad Taught Me

My sperm donor was Polish/Russian. My mother is Mexican.

My stepfather, the man I called daddy was a smart, well educated, financially sound black man. He married my mother after the divorce and raised me from the age of seven. I identify more with the black community than the white. I lived in a predominately black neighborhood. I went to predominately black schools. My mother said I was the only person she ever knew who could easily flip flop in and out of different people situations. I had friends of every race and got along with everyone.

My dad was a great teacher and communicator. He had been a high school history teacher. It was what he loved more than anything. He never hit us. He said that if you had a reasonably intelligent child you could reason with them. There was no need to hit a child. This was before time outs and putting a child in front of the t.v to entertain them. My dad and I would have great conversations and these are just a few of the things I learned from him about the black community.

My dad explained to me that the black community was looked down on because they were once property. Uneducated, lacking in anything that would make them important in this American world. He went on to explain that black people accepted this position because they didn't know their history. And, if they knew their history it would change them in a way society wouldn't like. So, they were only taught what they were supposed to know. They needed to be educated to know what a proud race of people they actually were.

He told me about Charles Drew and the discovery he made that would benefit mankind. Unfortunately, he died when they took him to a "white" hospital after he had been in an accident. They denied him a life saving blood transplant and any treatment. Charles Drew discovered the secret to blood transfusion. He died needing one.

There were the Tuskegee Airmen. Black pilots who fought in the second World War. They could not eat at the same table as the white pilots. But they sure as hell fought next to them in the skies. This small group of men went on to train more pilots to fight in the wars and beyond. There was Black Wall Street. There are so many more.

Shakespeare wrote about the Moors. There was Mary Ellen Pleasant, an activist and entrepreneur. Bessie Coleman, an Aviatrix. Matthew Henson, an Arctic Explorer. People tend to look at Harriet Tubman, Malcolm X and Martin Luther King as people of importance and change. And, they should. But there were so many more that came before them that opened doors and set down paths that are still open today.

He told me that the way to change the world is thru education. The more educated black men and women there are the more they can change their world. They change attitudes. They change minds. They can change the way the world sees them. My dad had less opportunities, less voice and no affirmative action. He worked hard and fought for everything he had. One of the things he was that people are short minded. They only see what you present. He would say a prince can be a pauper, a pauper a prince. He showed me what he meant one day.

He used to like to go to Robinson's to shop. This particular day we had been working and were not sparkly clean. But we stopped to get my mom a birthday gift. He went straight to the jewelry counter. They just ignored him. They looked right at him. They ignored him. When someone finally did react to him they refused to show him the piece of jewelry without the security guard there. "It was a VERY expensive piece". We left. We went back. Now clean and shiny wearing a $5000 watch, $500 Italian shoes and looking like he belonged there everyone wanted to help him. He asked for the store manager. The manager himself helped my dad after he explained the earlier situation. All he said was "people see what you present. Don't be short sighted. You never know what a person has, is hiding or who they are. Don't judge by what you see". This one sentence has pushed me forward in my career. I treat the CEO like everyone else. They remember me.

I remember what he taught me about "taking your pigs to a bad market" and dressing like you respect yourself. He hated the way that young men were dressing. Their pants hanging down to their knees. He said it looked sloppy and it was disrespectful to themselves, their families and especially their mamas. My brothers were never allowed to wear this look. He said black men should be dressing in suits. They should hold their heads high. They should go to college looking like they care about themselves, not like they just rolled out of bed. My dad was all about knowledge and respect. He was about learning and working smart, not hard. He is no longer of this earth. There are days I miss him and wish I could have one more conversation with him.