As we mark the birthday of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., I am reminded of many memories of him from my childhood.  I’m so sad his life was cut short, at only 39 years of age, too.  I’m happy for his courage, bravery and never-ending insistence that we’re all equal and worthy.

You see, an African-American nanny named Georgia raised me.  She was one of the most important people in my life.  I remember from a very early age people around me would make jokes or say things about her that I didn’t like.  I would often protest, and it would often be explained to me that Georgia was “different.”

I never thought she was very different.  Sure, she was a woman, and a grown-up, but everyone was different in that way to me, a very little kid.  I knew she wasn’t my mother, but she spent much more time with me than my mother did, and I loved her very much.

She taught me a lot about people, and how we are each unique, but that we’re all people and have so much in common.  So did Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  I remember seeing news on TV of his marches through Alabama.  I remember in detail about the violence, and the racist killings, and his non-violent responses.  I talked with Georgia about him, and she shared her love for him several times with me.

I was watching TV, home sick one day, and heard his “I Have a Dream” speech.  It was amazing.  I was also home the day he was shot, and saw the horrible aftermath unfold on national television.

What’s even more sad is that we still live in a world that’s pretty racist.  We still exist in cultures where people are not equal.  Yes, there’s been some improvement, but se still have a long way to  go.