We pull off at the side of the highway in Somewhere, Maine looking to sing to the snails. There's a deep shoulder of gravel here, so we assume it to be a parking lot. The sky and the water and the ... [+]
She didn't think herself a racist. She'd had black school friends, worked with black women at the restaurant, and watched Oprah daily.
But when her seven-year-old, white daughter brought home a children's book from the library featuring all black youngsters, she had to ask: Why?
"'Cuz' I can read all the words, Mama."