12 February 2013
It’s been a few weeks since the semester began. I have had many days to ponder my own prejudices. Everyone is supposed to have them, but this is the hardest paper I have ever had to write. I had no idea where to begin looking, or how to begin searching deep into myself to find the answers. Born in 1979, I was a child on the end of a new world. My parents were hippies. They may have grown up, but they never lost those traits a person associates with the hippie generation. Peace, love and happiness. Deliberately or not, those values were passed on to my brother and I. My Dad still celebrates John Lennon’s birthday, as well as the day he died. My young life was filled with a variety of people. I grew up in Dearborn, Michigan. Today most people associate Dearborn with Arab immigrants. In the 80’s it was a little more diverse. Italian, Polish, and Arab immigrants made up a good portion of our neighborhood. When my parents divorced, my Dad moved into a house shared with a gay couple—in Detroit, near Belle Isle. This isn’t a biography of my life, but I thought maybe some background about my life could be helpful not only to you, but to me.
Everyone is supposed to have prejudices, and I should be no exception. I started with asking family and friends if they have ever noticed a prejudice about me that I failed to notice. That didn’t get very far. Either no one wants to tell me, or I am proficient at hiding things. Next step was searching online. I’m not even sure what I was looking for, or where to begin. Beginning with just prejudice, I read through different definitions, some random blogs, and the all compassing Wikipedia. There was nothing helpful. I tried various phrases, and hit upon a project conducted by Harvard. I have no concept of how accurate this is, or if it would even be worth my time, but I tried it. After what seemed like a lifetime, I got results. According to this odd survey...