In my travels I have been to small towns that had children who had never seen a black person before and were shocked to see me in the flesh. It was in the 80s too!

@IAJO163

My father was a professional jazz trumpet player from age 14- he lied about his age to get into the Musician's Union- until age 51 when he died of cancer.

Dad has black musicians in his jazz band. I grew up on a lake in Michigan. On weekends, band members and their families visited our lakeside home for barbecues, swimming, sailing and playing music.

Grew up playing with their kids. Starting at age 12, I got to sit in with my flute when the band practiced at our house.

At the University of Michigan, I went looking for a jazz music class, so I could play jazz. The only class available was Jazz Workshop in the Afro-American Studies Dept. Played with that group for two years. Each Friday, we had to play gigs at fraternities or parties. In each song, each of us had to play an improvisational jazz solo. That cut our numbers.

After graduating at age 21, I moved to Washington State to climb mountains and stayed. Started graduate school at the Univ. of Washington. Running down a path at UW, I heard my name: "Kathleen Miller!"

Turning, there was the tall, black, freckled professor from Jazz Workshop at the Univ. of Michigan. I waited for him.

"How did you remember my name?" I asked when he caught up. "Think about it," he said and smiled.

In the 20 years he taught Jazz Workshop, I was the only white student with the guts to join Jazz Workshop, he said.

@LiterateHiker As an addendum, being raised urban allowed me to view many sleazy activities. LOL!!!