The college sophomore is on her university’s dance team and recently she was required to attend a dance camp at the U of H. She stayed with her coach who happens to be black.

When she got to her coach’s apartment, she was told to parallel park, she struggled not only as her coach watched but also an older white guy.

After she was done humiliating herself, the old white guy offered some tips. As the now 19-year-old and her coach went into the apartment the coach commented to Klaire, “I have lived here for two years and that man has never spoken to me.” Sad. You can’t see it but I’m shaking my head as I write this, I do that a lot.

Klaire was the only white girl in her dorm suite last year. She roomed with seven other young ladies. She was the minority and she loved the diversity.

I can remember some family members who attended a predominantly white church years ago, talking about a particular deacon at their church. After speaking about this man they would always add the phrase, “And he’s black.” Really?

The church is one of the most segregated places you can find on a Sunday morning and yet we sang as kids, “Red and yellow, black and white they are precious in His sight, Jesus loves the little children of the world.” I know the intent of the song but I’m pretty sure there is something wrong with it as well. My point is labeling people is so 20th century. The song has to extend beyond skin color, right? Ethnicity, sexual orientation, socioeconomic background, education.

We have had the, “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner” dinner at our house and we survived. Listen, can we talk? Hate, discrimination, and prejudice are really over rated. C. S. Lewis said, “Friendship is not a reward for our discrimination and good taste in finding one another out. It is the instrument by which God reveals to each the beauties of all the others.”

I’m not talking about right and wrong, I’m talking about love over labeling. What I’m saying is I have my hands full, loving God and loving people (Mark 12:30-31), regardless if they are red, yellow, black or white and I think people have their hands full loving me. Last time I checked I was no peach.

The culture uses the word “tolerant.” I think tolerant is the wrong word, the right word is love. Love your neighbor and who is your neighbor? It’s everybody: red, yellow, black or white - gay, not gay, poor, not poor, country club member, not a member of the “right” club, church goer, not a church goer, liberal or conservative. It’s hard I know, but it’s right and He told me to tell you that.