I grew up in Manhasset, N.Y. and never felt even a hint that I was a privileged white boy. One of my friends had a friend named Jim Brown, who lived in the Manhasset Valley, but Jim soon set us straight lest we think anything about what the activists call white privilege. Jim excelled at all the sports offered at Manhasset High, except maybe tennis. Then he went on to Syracuse University on a scholarship, room and board and all tuition paid. How’s that for an underclass man? By then we were finished with high school, looking around for a reasonable college, maybe here at home.
Jim went on to prove to us that we dealt with few underclass men. He was signed on by the Cleveland Browns, and every Sunday of football season we knew that we had never known an underclass guy. Jim was no George Floyd. In fact, as far as I know, he never had a rap sheet. And believe me, Jim was a girl’s dream in looks and most often, deportment.