I've always been receptive even as little kid. I knew there was two sides to every story, before my noticeable interests in stories began. Well I had two kids I hung out all the time with their dad accepted me and I spent most of my days at their house, being a black family they experienced life differently than I had but noticing my genuine interest and concern with the problems they faced their father made it known to me that whenever he talked about racism he wasn't talking about me because he knew I didn't see my friends as anything other than that. If it weren't for their father, I wouldn't have those conversations that brought me to tears as well as a deeper understanding of a plight I would've grown unaware without him. I could've been one of the ignorant people, I grew to openly detest. All because one man chose to share with me sorrow we catch ourselves hiding from everyone else wondering why we hurt. As I empathized my understanding grew to the point I detested everything that catered to that destructive...