Some Things Change, Some Remain
The visit to my home town has concluded. Three days were allocated to spend time with my disabled sister, and to visit with my brother. Those three days are also filled with memories of the person that I was when I was a child in Durham. There are also the years in my mid-twenties when I worked for Womack Electronics, and the Monsanto Company, in the Research Triangle Park. At that point I became an immigrant of sorts in order to become better educated, and to make a life for ourselves in Chicago. The years have passed. Several times a year I make a return visit to Durham.
Those versions of the person that I was remain within. I touch them when I return for a visit to Durham North Carolina.
By contrast to a big city, such a Chicago, Durham has been a small Southern town until recently. This means that much is within a few minutes drive or is within walking distance. It’s late February and the effect of Climate change is felt in the 70 degree weather, with the blooming crab apple trees and butter cups. It is highly unusual for containers of spring pansies to be offered for sale but there they were.
We enjoyed walking along Ninth Street to view the independently owned restaurants and shops that occupy the old buildings just a short walk from Duke University campus and student housing. What a student friendly neighborhood. There are indicators of edgy ideas, the rebellion that comes with the energy and idealism of youth to be seen in flyers posted on utility poles and in shop windows.
Along Main street in downtown Durham the landscape is under transformation by additional skyscrapers under construction. This Southern town is well on the way to becoming a smaller scale version of Atlanta, a legitimate city. I absorbed all of this, feeling satisfaction that a new 21st century Durham is rising from the relics of the tobacco town of my childhood. There is vibrancy, the infusion of risk-taking new-comers from other parts of the country, and other nations. All aspire to make a claim and establish their future here. We need immigrants.
At the Raleigh Durham International Airport I was reminded that 
the past is never over and done with. There is always a residue, that serves as a resource and as a reminder of attitudes and practices that merit criticism and correction. We passed a shoe-shine stand with a lineup of middle-aged, well-to-do white guys receiving a shoe shine from three African-American individuals. “Some things have not changed,” I thought to myself. I am aware that the three men offering a shoe shine to affluent males who have time on their hands while waiting to board their plane, likely earn a decent living, especially with tips. I hope so. But I’ve never seen a white male shining shoes in a public place. And I’ve yet to see a black male getting a shoe shine. The past is to be judged and corrected, my past.
There is work to be done.
