Learning to be racist I grew up in Royal Tunbridge Wells in the South East of England. Whilst a pleasant enough town, in the early 1940s it was hardly a classless or multi-cultural community; in fact, among the educated and privileged there was an inbuilt superiority that, sadly, we the less fortunate accepted as their lot in life. Oddly enough though, instead of identifying with the other lesser mortals we, being white, and indeed English, practised our own form of bigotry. “Eeny, meeny, miney moe!”, “Little Black Sambo”, “Sir Golly de Wog”… Read More