Racism, and its frequent corollary white supremacy, have been hot topics with me since high school in 1972. I belonged to a barbershop quartet (kids, ask your grandparents) that performed all over San Diego. My hometown wasn't exactly liberal, but it was a Navy town so people from everywhere were mixed together in neighborhoods and schools. Our quartet was asked to perform at a local Mormon church. After the performance, we were offered lunch. We all started to sit together when I was told that our bass, a wonderful black guy, would have to sit at another table. "Mixing" wasn't allowed. The four of us got up and walked out. My mom was very progressive, and so I grew up knowing racism was wrong. But after high school, I became a fervent anti-racist. I spoke out, I protested, I even used my radio show in college, an all-jazz station, to raise the topic with our primarily black audience. It took me quite a few years to realize that morality and humanity weren't the
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