The Different Feeling of Living in a Colorless Society

Having grown up and lived in a Harlem neighborhood in New York City, before I shipped off to the Army in 1943, I knew what it felt like to be treated like a 2nd class citizen in America. As a young kid growing up, you knew that you were not welcomed or even allowed to be in certain neighborhoods, swim in public pools, shop in certain stores or even think of getting a paperboy job outside of your “designated area”. I remember being in a summer camp program when I was about 12 years old. We were all told to show up one morning at the train station with our packed lunch and swim trunk. I was so excited that I barely could sleep the night before. When I arrived at the train station, there I met up with a group of excited fellow summer campers. As I went to drop my token in the turnstile (to enter into the train area) a hand appeared and covered the slot where the token is supposed to go. The person said to me “ no, you go back home, you won’t be going swimming with the rest of the boys”. That day, I again realized, I was not allowed to enjoy the privileges that others could. Life for people of color in the U.S. was very different.

When I joined the 92nd Infantry Buffalo Soldier 2nd Platoon and arrived in Italy- things were totally different. We were welcomed with cheers of excitement and pride by the Black U.S. stevedores (Army laborer soldiers – whose job was to unload the ships). They were proud to see Black U.S. soldiers who were there as part of a combat unit. The stevedores told us about the malicious stories that the White Americans had spread about Black people having tails like monkeys.  As an Army Buffalo Soldier in Italy things were very different from the racial experiences in the U.S.  I experienced a very welcoming and kind treatment from the local Italian residents.  The Italians saw us not based on the color of our skin, but based on the fact that we were there to liberate their towns and save them from Fascism. As the Italian interpreter for my Platoon, I was tasked with knocking on the doors of the Italian homes and asking if our soldiers could spend the night. Our General had issued a decree that said we could knock on any door and stay wherever we needed to. I remember knocking on a door one late evening. A little Italian grandmother peeped out of the window and then slowly opened the door. As we entered into the 3 story house, we realized that floors one and two were already occupied with other soldiers. The grandma took me up to the 3rd floor. She took a little key out from her pocket and opened the lock of a bedroom door. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was the most beautiful and elegant room I had ever seen. A well made bed with crisp sheets, velvet chairs and a rug that looked like no one had ever walked on it. I yelled “I’m filthy, I can’t sleep in this beautiful room”! She shoved me into the room and said “Yes, this is where you will sleep and anytime you are back in this area, this room is for you”.

This was just one of my many experiences of what living life in a basically colorless society in Italy felt like for me.