Sharon Hill Cranford: Each of us is mixed with some other culture

There was not surprise, but profound disappointment, when Dwight Roth and I learned of the racially motivated terrorist attack on African-Americans in Charleston, S.C. This attack was untenable on so many levels.

First, and foremost, there is but one race: the human race. If anything good can come out of this massacre, we hope that it will include the re-examination of the whole racial-classification system, including the new classification of mixed.

As a part of the human race, we all are mixed with some other culture besides what the mirror reflects. It makes no sense to attack, profile or discriminate in any way against anyone, based on the visage before one’s eyes. If there is a “we versus they,” it is freedom fighters versus those who seek to divide, terrorize and deny freedom.

After working closely together for more than two years on a book, and discovering our own interracial kinship, Roth and I were at first taken aback by our discoveries. But then we realized this was not surprising.

It is not a question of whether there are interracial kinships; they have been an intricate part of the American fabric since 1619. The questions are: When will we acknowledge that fact and that it likely includes most, if not all, Americans? When will we acknowledge the part that human treatment plays on all human behavior? Of what are we really afraid?

Roth and I wrote our book, “Kinship Concealed,” because, in spite of the painful revelations of slavery that our research uncovered, we learned firsthand that if you look at history head-on – not wavering, not flinching, not withholding the tears – you will come through this racial fog that has hovered over our nation for too long, wiser and stronger.

It will not happen overnight, and it will not happen in huge numbers. It will happen two by two, four by four, and spread from there.

After our book was published, our first tour was in Pennsylvania, the original homestead of the Amish people whose descendants would later own my great-great-grandfather. I confess, I resisted this visit, out of sheer fear. I thought, “God, what have I gotten myself into?” With my husband’s support and accompaniment, I took the steps and made the trip.

It was life-changing.

You will never know that people of other cultures do not resent you or want to harm you, or that they have hopes and dreams similar to yours, until you take the steps.

A few months later, it was Roth’s turn to take those steps when we toured East Texas, where my great-great-grandfather relocated, and whose progenies awaited the opportunity to meet the descendant of the slave owner. No doubt Roth had the same trepidations, but he forged ahead, trusting in me as I had trusted him those months ago.

Now, I can’t keep him away from East Texas and my mother’s sweet-potato pie.

We believe that our message bodes well for our nation. Those who died in Charleston and before did not die in vain. Out of their deaths will come the realization that very few of us intend to leave America, so it only makes sense that we figure out not only how to coexist but to love one another.

We are not naive enough to believe that everyone will do this, or even want to try. But there should be enough freedom fighters willing to make strides toward overcoming this stalemate of divisiveness.

This story was originally published July 16, 2015 at 7:01 PM with the headline "Sharon Hill Cranford: Each of us is mixed with some other culture."