I live in an Italian neighborhood in the Bronx. Growing up, it was a place where racism was not only rampant, but seemingly an integral part of the community's essence – so much so that it was one of the jurisdictions covered by Section 5 of the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Any changes made to election practices or procedures necessitated preclearance from Department of Justice. I wrote about my neighborhood here.
As the world turns, times change. Today, while the area is still mostly white, the balance shows a level of diversity that would have appalled the Mob wannabes with their baseball bats from back in the day. Blacks now live in a place where forty years ago they would have caught a beating just walking through.
In any case, I bring this up to elucidate two recent instances of bigotry in my life and the similarity they have to the now infamous Starbucks incident.
Once a month, I go to a bank in a neighborhood that is probably 95% black. After conducting business, I go to the supermarket next door. I have never seen a white person in the bank and only occasionally see one in the supermarket.