I went to school in a small, rural town in Texas. I remember playing basketball against Chilton, a town about an hour away that was majority black. Racial animosity in the game was a given. They almost always beat us. I remember taking pains to smile at them, to say, “good game.” They looked at me as though I had spaghetti growing out of my ears. I get that. Later, I transferred to a school that was more racially mixed. Most of the black kids lived literally “across the tracks.” I must have earned the trust of a classmate, because he asked me for a ride home after school (I drove daily). I obliged, and it was the first time I had ever been to the “ghetto.” It was like two worlds in one town. It was a privilege to be allowed in. I have never forgotten it. I look forward to the book.