About the concept of war, and injuries, and the stupidity of it all

Good morning, my friends. I have put up some more benches on my roof terrace for you, baked a strawberry cake and am waiting for your magic carpets to land. Feel at home at my place. The sun is shining, we have a great colourful springtime, and I already enjoyed a visit to the local farmer`s market this forenoon. So far I have not figured out how to post pictures, but you can IMAGINE how brimming and bustling it was. After having lived here for such a short time, I still feel rather invisible, but I don`t mind that at all, as I like to just stroll around and see what is going on around me. This town is full of different people - French, Italian (both borders are not far away), Arabs and Africans, and they come in all different shades. I passed a young father today, with three beautiful cute little boys who held each other by the hands. The one in the middle was singing loudly. They were just such a sight! And I thought, May you always have good experiences with grown-ups. May you be seen by them as the curious, sweet, open-hearted kids that you are. Not as "different-looking" because of your black skin. I have never really understood what this skin-colour idea has to do with real life. I mean, there are nice and stupid people everywhere, Germans and others, blue-or brown-eyed. And at the seashore all the light-skinned people are trying to get tanned! But if you are already tanned by birth, you are not "right"? Ha, just look at those pale white, fat-bellied guys with sunburn and flip-flops, tehee. Don`t you feel urged to rather turn your gaze away? I was once in Tennessee and met a very nice plantation owner. He still employed many black-skinned workers. I met one of them who thought it amazing that I had come all the way from Germany, and we shook hands. The plantation man told me afterwards that he thought that his employees were better off when they still had been slaves (this was in 1965, okay, but I have not forgotten it). THEN, he said, they were totally cared for, had living quarters, food, medical care. NOW they had to organize it all themselves and pay for everything from their salary. Convincing, he thought. I was 17 and had never been aware of slavery before - but I thought: But what about not being FREE? Not being able to move, marry whom I want, choose a work place? Be OWNED by someone else. Even then I shook my head. What is so unjust in valueing other people by their background is that I won`t give them a chance, no matter how gifted, smart, kind they are. Because their great-grandparents had been slaves (against their will, many of them had certainly been estimated and rich and famous in their former communities), how can I believe that should never change? I am always hoping to hear your views, because my experiences are naturally limited. Help yourself to another piece of cake! Cheers for today!