In my last job I took a required workshop on Diversity, Equity and Inclusion. One of the exercises paired me up with a young woman whose parents were born in India, although she’d been born and raised in the States. We were supposed to talk about where we’d grown up. Who did we feel comfortable around? And who not so much? She grew up in Dallas, Texas. At first, she lived in a neighborhood with a bunch of other brown children. She liked it. Then her parents moved her to a “better school.” She was the only kid with brown skin there. So she said she felt most comfortable with people who looked like her. She felt least comfortable with (looking at me) old white guys. I said I totally got that. I’d grown up north of Chicago, on the shore of Lake Michigan. My mother was consistently kind and competent. My father was often mean and drunk. I was raised on the dividing line between the Black and white parts of town so was definitely aware of race. I’m comfortable with people who are kind. I’m ...