Monday, October 06, 2003

Sweet suffering Jesus.
What I saw: A young family of five — father, mother, three young children, well-dressed, well-behaved, enjoying their night out, too. Except for the well-behaved children — mythical creatures with which we have no personal experience with — the family was unremarkable.

But they were black. And my husband whispered that in a nation where 70 percent of black children are born into homes without fathers, it was great to see a picture-perfect black family dining together. "I almost want to go give the guy a high five," he said, somewhat sheepishly.
I thought we were at least thirty years past the concept of "a credit to their race." What chills me most is that I'm dead certain that Graham thought she was being nice.

(Via Atrios.)