I have received some very wonderful emails over the last few days in response to my series of stories on Phillip and me and discovered something in those emails our parents should be ashamed of.

It wasn't anything anyone intended for me to discover, but it is difficult to ignore when virtually ever single one starts the same way . . .

"David, I wanted you to know I enjoyed reading your stories, but I couldn't leave a comment publicly because I wasn't . . ."

My heart went out to these classmates who 40 -50 years ago we were often cruel to because they were different.  Maybe they weren't as pretty or maybe they wore prescription glasses, but they felt rejected.  Because of something totally beyond anything they could possibly control I was able to feel even today a fear of exposing themselves to possible rejection and at the same time they were the ones who were the most sensitive and took the time to write me and that meant so much. 

I look back at the early 50's and sometimes think our parents should be shot.  Look at some of the garbage they taught us.  I had good parents.  My Dad was as hard as a ten penny nail, but my mother was a pearl.  However, I was taught that I was not to associate with certain people and the "N'" word was not  the "N" word.  It was the word. 

Children are going to take just a mere concept of "not associating" and apply it to other things even if that may not be the intent of the parent. 

I live in Hill County, home of Willie Nelson, a good thing in my opinion, but up the road a few miles in Malone, a town of about 300, are three taverns.  You could walk into any one of them just to enjoy a beer and socialize and even today you would here the "N" word within ten minutes and I therefore choose not to go in them.   Don't think Malone is unique.  This is just the way it is in central and east Texas.

When we teach our children they are better than others "for any reason" we put something into their minds that leaves other people lifetimes down the road feeling like the friends who wrote me.

To those of you who wrote , I am sorry for any role I may have had in any discrimination against you may have felt growing up.  There is one classmate I was cruel to as a child that I can't say I am sorry to because Charlotte has now passed on, but some of my friends and I were very hard on her.  Shame on us.

What if we taught our children that those who are different were special and should be loved more?  I hope another child is never ever . . . ever . . .ever . . . ever . . . ever . . . again introduced to such a foul concept that they are actually so much better than someone else that another person should not even be allowed to take a piss in the same toilet?