notes on government, sports and popular culture
, via Cone
, ponders the vestiges of institutional racism in Greensboro.
I thought about that question this morning as I was loading up my groceries in the Friendly Center Harris Teeter. I could hear someone jamming loudly to "Thriller" in the background, and it was a pleasant eye-opener on a lethargic Tuesday morning following a holiday weekend. When I looked over, an African-American grandmother, probably in her late 50s and dressed up in a hip-hop outfit that would rival any I've seen, was locking up her bright red convertible.
Institutional racism alive in Greensboro? Maybe. But I'd say that lady's done pretty well for herself.