If I were a black man.

Occasionally, I imagine that I was born black. With everything else being essentially the same. The same human being in every other way. Same parents. Same birth place. Same environment. Same genes. Same everything. Except for my skin color. Because of some freakish circumstance, I was black. And then I wonder what difference would it have made in my life. Especially when I ventured out on my own. Away from my family. The differences would have been dramatic, I suspect. In America, and maybe much of the rest of the world, skin color makes a difference. A big difference. Often in negative ways. When really, it shouldn't. But that's the nature of racism. Skin color makes a difference. At least in some locales. I went to Florida. And worked for three years in the 1960s. Writing for newspapers. No way would I have gotten those jobs if I had been black. Even with everything else being the same. And I probably would have gotten an inferior education. Because of my blackness. I would have been forced to live in black ghettos. And I would have been denied rooms in hotels and motels. I would not have been served in most restaurants. Even today, I wouldn't be treated the way I am treated now. As a white man. Blackness still makes a difference. I would be less accepted by some white folks. Many of 'em would see me in a significantly different way. If I were a black man. --Jim Broede