My Race

The first time I became aware of the existence of black people was in grammar school. There was a black boy several grades ahead of me, and he was the smartest kid in my school. He was also the only black attending the Catholic school in my Italian and Irish Bronx neighborhood. The first black person I met in my life robbed me at Yankee Stadium when I was 8 years old. Behind him stood 3 black teenagers coaching him on how to properly mug a young white boy. They got my quarter. There were no black families in my neighborhood -- except of course, for the family of the smartest guy in my school. Nobody bothered them, they had always been there. Otherwise, blacks were not allowed in my neighborhood. In fact, any black foolish enough to challenge this would invoke the wrath of the "association." The "association" was a bunch of Italian guys who thought they were Mafioso, violently patrolling the neighborhood with vigilante zeal. Black interlopers were chased and beaten. I'm not sure if...(Read Full Article)