I Didn't Know I Wasn't Black

When four-year-old Gary’s white parents divorce in 1954 his family falls apart. When his mother remarries, to a black man, his world falls apart. He was a five-year-old white boy unwillingly thrust into a nine-year journey that simultaneously bares the soul of white prejudice and exposes the cautious anger of the black man living in 1955 America. The abuse at the hands of the black family paled in intensity when compared with the ridicule and torment received from his white...
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When four-year-old Gary’s white parents divorce in 1954 his family falls apart. When his mother remarries, to a black man, his world falls apart. He was a five-year-old white boy unwillingly thrust into a nine-year journey that simultaneously bares the soul of white prejudice and exposes the cautious anger of the black man living in 1955 America. The abuse at the hands of the black family paled in intensity when compared with the ridicule and torment received from his white counterparts. Nine years at the hands of prejudiced white America taught Gary nothing more than how to hate, and how to survive in dense solitude. Gary survived and today, as an experienced speaker, workshop leader and twice-published author, Gary E. MacLean brings us his shocking and oftentimes woefully painful tale of abuse and neglect at the hands of his adopted black family and stark rejection by his natural white brothers. Gary’s story is a collection of memories from the nine years of pain and abuse during his mother’s selfishly experimental search for her own peace. Stark revelations of the ignorance of 1950s America and ofttimes horrifying tales of the abuse and neglect that accompanied it. Painfully told, this story is a cleansing for the author. He tells the story as it happened and asks for no apologies and accepts no excuses. His resounding lament remains, “I didn’t know I wasn’t black.”