Giving the Gift of Respect

One of the formative experiences of my life happened in the middle of first grade, when we moved from Redwood City to Corcoran, a tiny farming town in the Central Valley, where I spent the rest of my youth. At that time, Redwood City was predominantly caucasian; Corcoran was about 50-50 caucasian and Hispanic. The hispanics made up the bulk of the farm labor force.

My first day of school was a bit of a culture shock. From a big city to a small town, from a homogeneous to a mixed culture. Guess who shunned the new kid. Guess who asked him to play at recess. It was the opposite of what I expected. That day and many days hence, I hung out with the Hispanic kids. Learned to play marbles out on our dirt playground. Saw how some of my new friends lived out in the projects. Oh, I eventually had plenty of friends from all racial groups, but as you can imagine, those first days shaped my world view.

Since then I've had little tolerance for separating people by race or economic bracket. I'm not patting myself on the back or anything, it's just that I've never found any group that had a corner on character. If anything, I think it takes more to maintain your nobility and self-respect when you're near the bottom of the economic ladder than the top.

My mother was my biggest role model. She started the girl scout troop in Corcoran, exposing so many girls in that "cow town" to new experiences and training in life. She frequently befriended kids from the projects, many of whom she met while substitute teaching, encouraging them to dream big. My wife, Trudi, is also one of my heroes here.

Every day presents us with countless opportunities to give the gift of respect to the people we meet, particularly to those who are marginalized in one way or another. I'm not trying to preach, just share how I see things. Have a great day.