I didn’t
know that I was prejudiced until I was about 8 years old and may not have comprehended
the meaning of being very prejudiced. My great-great aunt lived with us and we were
attending St Johns Children’s Home annual
picnic. When we went into the lady’s room an elderly black lady was cleaning,
and my aunt obviously knew her from the
small group of black people who lived two
blocks from us. They shook hands and were chatting when my aunt turned
to me and said, “Jean, shake hands with the lady.” My stomach did a little
flip, but I knew I had to do what Aunt Vennie told me to do. My first thought
was how to find another lady’s room where I could wash my hands!
Two years
later I was working at a Bingo Hall where my family was responsible for the
concessions. My brother and I (ages 8 and 10 ) walked among the players selling
soft drinks, snacks, and beer (that’s right-beer.) Some young adults volunteered
to change cards and call bingos back to check for accuracy. One of the young
men was black and came to tell me good-by because it was his last night.
Gentleman that he was, he extended his hand and I gave him mine, not because
someone told me to but because I knew it was the right thing to do. At that
moment, I became determined to overcome my
prejudice --easier said than done.
I clearly
remember that my family would not attend a movie in Cincinnati because we might
need to sit next to a black person. Black people were not welcome in movies or
restaurants in Kentucky until 1953. Even then, I told myself that we avoided
blacks by choice, not because we were
prejudiced
Years later
when I attended Catholic University for my masters degree, there were several
black sisters in attendance. My opportunity had come. I found it easy to chat
with them and even made a couple friends. Then one evening a black friend asked me to go swimming
with her in the University pool. I found it easy to agree. That evening I got in the pool
first. To my amazement, when my friend
dove in, my stomach did another flip and the water around her dive seemed to
turn chocolate. When I got out of the pool and met my friend, I knew in my
heart that the illusion of chocolate water was an end to my prejudice. It is such a blessing. Color is no longer an issue
for me when meeting anyone. Praise God!
Sr.
Victoria Eisenman, OSB
