TL:DR – Being forced to be racist by family stopped me from actually being racist. Also my mom.
I had a super racist grandpa and uncle. Both pieces of shit supported by my grandma.
I would frequently stay with them while both my parents worked on Saturdays. I would pretend around them when I was younger because I wanted them to like me.
I don't remember this story but my mom will tell it so proudly if the subject of racism comes up (She was very different from her dad/brother)
I was maybe 6 or 7 when one day I was crying when my mom picked me up and the whole way home I just sobbed like my heart was broken. I wouldn't tell her what was wrong but I cried quietly the whole way home and went right into my bed and laid down crying. My dad and her came in and asked me what was wrong. I still didn't want to tell them and my dad got a little gruff with me "Boy you tell me whats wrong right now, if somebody hurt you or told you not to tell me.. " and I guess I started crying loudly for the first time and blurted out "GRANDPA AND UNCLE CHUCK SAID I CAN'T BE FRIENDS WITH MALCOLM ANYMORE BECAUSE HE IS A DIRTY N****R" my uncle made me call him and say that to him.
My mom immediately flew into a rage. She went down there and from what I told beat the living shit out of her brother, told her dad that I would not be coming over anymore and that he was no longer invited to any family events.
She then drove to my friends house with blood from my uncle's nose still on her shirt. Apologized profusely for what happened and told them the story and that I had been crying the whole time because my uncle made me do that. We had dinner the next day and instead of going to my grandpa's house on Saturdays I ended up going to my friend Malcolm's house.
Note: I say had because my grandpa is dead and later in life I told my uncle who never changed that he's not my uncle anymore when he called my 2 yr old half Mexican niece a S**C. He now has a half Mexican grandson but from what I hear he hasn't really changed.