I was born and raised in Teaneck, New Jersey; close enough to the George Washington Bridge and Manhattan that I’m sure many residents who left would tell people they were from The City.

I was never one of those people. I’ve always been proud to have called New Jersey home, especially the town I grew up in. My parents’ home was close to the highway, a major park and the high school, affectionly known as The Castle on the Hill. It was also in a middle ground.

To the west of my home, on the other side of the park and the railroad tracks were what we called the “Hebrew Hills”. This was an affluent area with large homes and congregations within walking distance for the mainly Jewish residents.

To the east, across Teaneck Road, was a slightly rougher side of town. And the only reason it was considered rougher was because it was mainly populated by black families.

The town had other sections and splits, but this area is important to note because the “Black” side of town was created in the traditional way in America – with real estate maneuvers and White Flight. But the big difference with our town was its history.

According to Wikipedia, “In 1965…Teaneck became the first community in the nation where a white majority voluntarily voted for school integration, without a court order requiring the district to implement the change.” While this didn’t result in that same white majority willingly living next door and amongst black people, I saw it reflected with the children.

That is my second grade class picture and it’s a picture of the America sells to the world. One where a black child is next to a white child is next to an Asian child is next to an Hispanic child and everyone is smiling.

And while I can name a lot of the faces even today, the bigger thing is what happened when this group got older. At least my memory of it, because I can recall seeing a similar mix of faces when attending the many bar- and bat mitzvahs in middle school. And then a somewhat similar mix as we all got older and went to the house of whoever’s parents had left town for the weekend.

I’m not saying it was always a rainbow of colors. Just like in every high school, there were cliques and ‘cool’ kids and jocks and everything else. But maybe it was just my graduating class. Or maybe it was because I considered myself a social butterfly, able to float between a large variety of people and feel comfortable.

But feeling comfortable amongst a variety of people is something that isn’t done in the country on a large scale. Maybe it’s due to programs in the 1940s that forced black families into apartment projects, gave home loans to white families and denied them to everyone else, creating home equity and a foundation of wealth.

But that wouldn’t explain the other immigrants and minorities that have come to the country and flourished. I’m currently in Duluth, Georgia, a city with a population close to 23,000, 23% of which are classified as Asian. More specifically Korean and I say that due to the amount of Korean businesses within the city. And they stay packed with cars and customers.

I’ve shopped at H-Mart, a supermarket chain founded by Il Yeon Kwon and headquartered in Lyndhurst, NJ that specializes in Asian food. See, Asians eat fresh produce and seafood and a wide variety of butchered meat and other foods that everyone eats. Therefore, everyone shops there. But they are catering to the Korean clientele, at least the one near me, because the lady calling out about her samples isn’t speaking English.

And I have absolutely no problem with that. I’m still going to get my fruit and take advantage of the sales just like any other customer. But the Koreans make a point to come in and support their own. H-Mart may be a nationwide chain, but this isn’t the only business they support. It seems they’ll go out of their way to make sure they’re spending money in a Korean business.

The same could be said for the Indian-Americans, who frequent the Global Mall in Norcross or another strip of stores north of Johns Creek on Peachtree Parkway. Yes, I know I’m getting hyper-local, but that’s exactly it.

When it comes to supporting hyper-local businesses, the ones moments from your home, minority groups should be supporting their own. In the examples I’ve provided, it’s people buying from people that look like them and ‘speak their language’. But even if they don’t or they disagree, they still support their own.

From my view of the black community, this is only done with barber shops, beauty salons and night clubs. Any other black-owned business had better be the best in said business, otherwise they won’t get the same treatment other minorities provide their own.

Even as I point out the problem, I’m not part of the solution. I live in the suburbs of Atlanta and while it’s ridiculous to consider a 45-minute drive to Bankhead or SWATS to support a black-owned business, it’s not like I’m stepping out of my way to find one within my driving circle.

But it’s never too late to make a change. I’m hungry for dinner and think I’ll check out The Blackican brick and mortar store. I don’t know exactly who owns it, but I’m trying and that’s the truth.