Dottie was really prejudiced.
She didn’t care for those kind of people
which is difficult
for a longtime resident of Fort Apache,
the Bronx.
Despite her bigotry
she found space in her heart
for the dozens of black and Latin,
Asian and Arabic locals
who passed by her block.

Each and every individual she met
might be part of a group
she would speak horribly about,
but those she befriended
were a credit to the many,
never representative of their group.
She knew infinite exceptional minorities
– exceptions all –
while still hating the various stereotypes
she insisted on subscribing to.

She was an expert
at those mental gymnastics,
justifying prejudices
while constantly defying them.
It must have been exhausting for her
but she made maintaining her hate
seem so very easy,
just one of the things
that made Dottie a credit to her kind.