I think most people who look white don't understand or perceive the pervasive effect of growing up black in a culture that includes racism. That doesn't make them racist themselves, or mean they are insensitive (though some certainly are), but I think it accounts for some of the responses Azizi gets when she brings up the subject of race.

There is racism in Canada, but from my limited experience, it is not on the same level as racism in parts of the US. Part of my experience comes from a childhood year (1957-58) of going to school and living in Florida. My school was segregated. Restaurants, bathrooms, drinking fountains, restaurants were segregated. My aunt had a Black maid that she was perpetually cranky with. My Dad was warned that he would be fired from his construction job if he persisted in carpooling with some black co-workers. There were Black shantytowns on the edge of the city.

You might say, well, that was a long time ago, but it isn't really, when you consider most children of that era are still alive. My aunt and many cousins are still there. I see them when they come to visit, and they often casually say things so racist I frankly find it shocking, as does the rest of my family. I stopped speaking to one cousin's old Fla. family husband, as his stated views on race are abhorrent. They are unapologetically lower middle class racists and they do not perceive their views to be minority in their culture.

I spent most of the years between 1972 and 2000 working with kids in a predominantly black urban community in Nova Scotia. Racism exists here, but it is usually less overt. Not always. I've seen a young man who never did a dishonest or cruel thing in his life beaten within an inch of his life by police, an uncommon incident, but it was racially motivated. Shopping with Black friends, I've been pointedly followed by store security, almost every time. I've heard an old nun teacher opine that a six year old Black girl, who was lively and happy, would most likely be a prostitute when she grew up - this despite the fact that her family were all church-going, decent, working people. I've laughed ruefully with a Black mother of six sons, all of them short, when yet another class photo came out with her short son in the back row, barely visible.

When you grow up Black in North America, experiencing subtle and not so subtle racism is a matter of fact. You can't escape it. It doesn't matter how many nice, non-racist white people you interact with, because you can't know when you will next be slapped in the face with another example of blatant or subtle racism. It means you are always waiting for it to happen, bracing yourself for the hurtful slur, the subtle rejection, or the overt act. That so many Black citizens learn to look beyond this in order to interact culturally, socially and practically with White people, hoping for the best possible relationships, is in my opinion courageous and encouraging.