As I walked into the company conference room to attend the weekly team meeting, I knew that I was early, but a few of my direct reports were already assembled in the room. They seemed to be in a robust discussion that suddenly stopped when I entered the room.

I said hello to everyone and took my seat. Suddenly, all eyes were staring at me. I smiled and asked them “Hey, what was the debate about?” Some of them quickly looked at their notebooks or around the room. One brave person answered, “We were discussing the Olympics and some of the athletes.” I loved the Summer Olympics and talked about the American medal count constantly.

I started to chime in about the latest amazing job of our American athletes but was caught off guard when that person looked at me and said, “We were commenting on how most of the athletes seem to have mixed parents. Didn’t you notice that?”

I was shocked at their observations, and when something of that origin shocks me, I always ask questions. Asking questions is a defense mechanism I learned from my father when faced with perplexing issues about race and when confronted with miscegenation.

I thought of the honesty it took for that person to express their thoughts to me. Everyone in that room at that time reported to me. They knew where I stood on issues of gender and race. I decided that would be a great opportunity to inform my team of my feelings about the one-drop rule.

As I stared into the faces of those team members, they quickly noticed the sadness in my eyes. You see, all the people in that conference room at that time were younger than 30 years old. I became so profoundly saddened that we have not come far from the one-drop rule….a riddle, wrapped in an enigma.

Historically, the one-drop rule was used to determine who was Black in the United States, but currently, this rule is associated with antiquated ideology. Originating in the 1700s, the one-drop rule was a legal principle of racial classification. This rule created a hierarchy of power that separated white people from all other races, not only in the United States but around the world. If you were not considered to be of the “pure white” race, then you were considered a lesser class of people.

The one-drop rule feeds into the caste system that is still in place in America. In 2020, there were 33.8 million mixed-race people in the United States, a 276% increase from the 9 million mixed-race people in 2010. A new chapter to the American story has already been written.

It is no wonder why so many wealthy white Americans, want to get rid of the middle class. Hypodescent, the classifying or identifying of a biracial or multiracial individual as a member of the lower or lowest socially ranking racial group from which that person has ancestry, is one of the deceitful, clever tools used by these individuals to make themselves feel more protected, admired and valued in the United States.

The rule of hypodescent is the essence of the one-drop rule. The old “divide and conquer” rule. But is that really who we are as a people? Will we allow a 1662 Virginia law to determine our destiny as a country?

I have argued with many people that the United States of America is still a caste society. We systematically search for irrelevant things to make us different from one another. We exploit those differences and shame those people that we feel are inferior to us.

I love to watch children play. I can sit on my front porch or look out of my bedroom window and watch them play for hours. It is like taking a front seat to their carefree world. My neighborhood is a melting pot of people and cultures. Indian children play with African American and white children. I see and hear sounds that make me joyful to be in a thriving neighborhood.

When I want an up-close and personal view of their world of play, I take my dog for a walk through the neighborhood. The children greet my Golden Retriever with joy and wonder. Even though they see him almost every day during our walks, they always seem happy to see him and want to pet him. I witnessed an African American girl on a scooter barefoot gliding up the street—not a care in the world.

I want to dream beyond what Martin Luther King dreamed on August 28, 1963. I want to dream of a world where we see children just as they are…a blessing from God—no matter what their skin tone appears to be. We see their potential, and we are proud of what we see.