Two brothers along with their mother were sitting, eating lunch. One of the boys spotted a man with olive-colored skin walking by. He stared thoughtfully at his slanted eyes and the sleek, dark hair that hung from his head in a ragged way.

"Mommy," he sweetly murmured, as he sipped his drink, "What do you call that man?"

With a look of embarrassment, she replied, "Asian."

Next, a man with much darker skin, a deep shade of bronze, walked by. The boy again fixed his gaze on the shape and style of his hair. He also noticed that the palms of the man's hands were a soft pigment of pink and that his lips carried the same tint. "Mommy, what do you call that man?" he questioned innocently.

"That is a black man," she answered hastily.

The next person to stroll by was a much more familiar sight. The boy recognized the pale complexion and smooth hair. He also noticed the differences between this man and the previous two. "Mommy, what do you call that man?"

"White," his mother replied quietly.

The other brother, who had calmly been eating lunch with his mother and brother, had been listening to their conversation, and stood with a confused look on his face.

"Mommy, I call them by their names," he said. c