Under Our Skin

Don McRae grew up in a South Africa where his father would call the black men he met ''boy'' and where his mother insisted that their black servants used tin mugs, plates and cutlery as they ate the family''s left-over food in the backyard of their grand suburban property. The McRaes, like so many white people, seemed oblivious to the violent injustices of apartheid. As the author grew up, the pol...