I'm sure they have all that pride, strength and humanity of their Black ancestors. I know I do/ I've figured it out in that sense. This story was more about impressions and memories I had as a kid and the confusion I had watching my mother, who was a very proud Black woman kind of wilt in the face of white "authority figures." It was an odd paradox for me; her on the one hand instilling pride in me and telling me never to back down or to accept racism, and then on the other hand acting in such an almost servile way. I get it now, it's what she learned growing up to get by in a white-dominated world in the 30s and 40s and it stuck with her. But as a kid, it was something I couldn't grasp.