These days all one hears about is white privilege.

I am not minimizing racism; when I was growing up my home environment was one of daily abuse, both physical and emotional.

I was often in pain also, because of hunger. I was beaten, bloodied, and told that I was stupid and would never amount to anything.

No one tried to intervene. Although I am sure the bruises and lack of food were obvious, nobody of any race heard my cries.

School should have been a form of refuge for me, but it was a place of torment, too. I was made fun of daily, because I was very poor. My clothes were shabby. I wasn’t clean. I had very low self-esteem. Even the teachers showed a dislike of me.

I am not writing this for pity or anything — only to point out that just because one is white, it doesn’t always mean a privileged life.

I have overcome a lot of the things that I suffered as a child. But scars were left.