I remember visiting distant relatives when I was a kid and hearing jokes and stories that seemed a little off-color to my innocent ears. Some of the humor made fun of people who were different - people from different racial or ethnic backgrounds in particular. I distinctly recall being uncomfortable because I normally didn't hear much of that sort of thing.
Trying to process those experiences, it dawned on me that my mom and dad had come from that world where that kind of humor was common - but that they had, somehow, tried to leave that world behind. I can't remember now if they laughed at the jokes, but I'm sure that those kinds of jokes would have never been told in our home. Frankly, we were simply not allowed to make jokes at the expense of anyone. I don't think that I ever actually had my mouth washed out with soap, but I know exactly what would have caused that to happen. The behavioral choices that I made (for example, not to tell jokes that made fun of other people) were heavily influenced by the implied threat of punishment - and (hopefully) by my own growing sense of right and wrong.
In high school - during a time that was pretty racially charged - people saw me as a peacemaker and a bridge builder. And I loved being known that way.
Still, I remember how troubling it was when I realized that I wasn't as free from racism as I would have claimed. That's really hard for me to admit.