My brothers and sisters, do not show prejudice if you possess faith in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ. James 2:1

It is May 22, the anniversary when my family arrived in New York as German immigrants. It is also the day before my birthday so the two days are inseparable. I can’t think of the one without the other: my birth on planet Earth and seven years later entering a new life in the United States. Both occurred decades ago so now it seems like ancient history, especially to our grandchildren who don’t know the whole story. Every year I remember this particular part of my life because it is their legacy.

Today my heart is heavy. The country my parents emigrated to is not the same. They came to have a better life, have new opportunities, to work hard and succeed so we, their children, wouldn’t struggle as they had. When I hear people disrespect this country, trash its values and history, and call one another vile names, I wonder, “How did such hatred of the country, anger, irrationality, immorality and unchecked rage happen?” I thought I was paying attention.

Some of the most disturbing developments are the ugly, intensified accusations leveled at anyone who dares to disagree with leftists and liberal, cultural justice warriors. It began years ago when political correctness first appeared. Most people I knew ignored “PC ” as being silly but in a short time, we’ve gone a long way from calling janitors “sanitation engineers.” PC has become a deity and accusations grow like a Hydra head. One of those monstrous heads emerging is labeling someone as a “racist. ” It is an ugly epithet to throw around so readily, so mercilessly. Yes, this country has a dark history of slavery and oppression of black people. There are white supremacist groups and black identity victimization groups and there are those in power who keep the race card alive. No one wants to be called a racist. But the people I know are not racists any more than their accusers.

I know first hand what racism is like. I grew up in it. I know the ugliness of the lie that one nationality or race is so superior to another that their ethnicity, lives, beliefs, religion and ethics are valueless. I know what it is like to judge others because of skin color or language or physical appearance. My family whom I loved fiercely was prejudiced against almost every other nationality and race: Poles, Irish, Italian, Blacks and Puerto Ricans. And of course the Jews. My father and I fought constantly. I refused to listen to him, never won an argument and usually left angry. There is guilt and shame that comes with racism. It was a stressful way to grow up. On the other hand, I never took the time to understand why my father and others believed what they did. I hated their racism so much it kept me from loving relationships. Recently, I’ve written a memoir for ourchildren/grandchildren so that they will know the truth.

This is why today as I remember coming to the United States with my parents, I write about racism. The Lord brought me through my past. Jesus redeemed it so that my family would not repeat the lie. God sees our hearts. He does not judge us by the color of skin. God created us in His image and likeness and wasn’t it He who gave humans different skin pigmentation? He gave us ethnicity and placed us in different nations. As followers of the Lord Jesus, there is no allowance for any racism and prejudice. We are all one in Christ. We are to love our neighbors as ourselves, and especially our enemies. The Creator of the Universe must despise the sin of racism, but I also believe He is not pleased by the nasty racist labels being thrown around like poison darts.

Do not ever call me a racist. Do ask me, however, to have a conversation. I’d love to share my testimony.