One of our guests at the Xmas party told a funny story. She grew up on a farm in Northern Minnesota, a neighbor of my wife’s family, and that neck of the woods is pretty monochromatic and insular. She mentioned she was in her twenties before she saw her first black person.
Anyway, as a kid of six or seven she was taken into a Big City (probably Duluth) to do some shopping, and was walking along when she suddenly stopped and shouted at her mother, “Mom, look at those witches!”
Her mother shushed her, and took her aside to explain those weren’t witches. They were Catholic nuns in habits.
I told her she wasn’t far off afterall.
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