Small Town (Lack of) Education

Milk River is a small place.

Hardly more than a dot on a map.

And, though it was the centre of my world, in a cosmopolitan sense, it would not be considered . . . well . . . cosmopolitan.

Oh, we had descendants of peoples from many places around the world.

Hungarian.

Swedish.

German.

Polish.

United Kingdom.

In fact, most of Europe.

But no African Americans.

In fact, the only people who weren't strictly white-skinned, were our few wonderful Japanese families.

Until I moved from Milk River after high school, I had never actually seen a dark-skinned person.

Move forward several years.

My Husby and I raised our family on a ranch near Fort Macleod, Alberta.

A wonderful town.

Comparative to Milk River in many respects.

Including the lack of people of African American descent.

After several years, we moved our family to Edmonton.

It was an education.

On many levels.

But especially in the 'race, creed and colour' department.

On to my story . . .

Shortly after our move, we decided to take our family swimming at the nearest facility.

They loved swimming.

All went well.

I was sitting in the children's pool with my youngest.

My two-year-old was playing nearby.

Suddenly he stopped.

Stared.

Then ran quickly to me.

“MOM!” he said excitedly, as only a two-year-old can. “LOOK! A CHOCOLATE MAN!”

All heads turned in our direction.

I felt myself flushing as I resignedly followed the pointing finger.

A dark-skinned man was walking along the side of the pool.

Oh, and he was looking, too.

Sigh.

I loved being raised in a small town.

It was peaceful.

Wonderful.

But some aspects of small town life definitely need work.
P.S. My youngest son also had an encounter with "Alladin" but that is another story.