"I am the son of a black man from Kenya and a white woman from Kansas I am married to a black American who carries within her the blood of slaves and slave owners. I have brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, uncles and cousins, of every race and every hue, scattered across three continents. These people are a part of me and they are part of America.”

So. Does that set him apart from us? Or does it make him one of us? Like any discussion on race, it can go either way.

"Did I know him to be an occasionally fierce critic of American domestic and foreign policy? Of course I did. Did I ever hear him make remarks that could be considered controversial while I sat in church? Yes. Did I strongly disagree with many of his political views? Absolutely."

Obama finally addressed the outcry over the hateful words of his pastor, Jeremiah Wright. He had to. It was fuel for the talk show fires, and for those in the crowd only too happy to refer to him by his middle name.

"I can no more disown him than I can my white grandmother - a woman who helped raise me, a woman who sacrificed again and again for me but a woman who once confessed her fear of black men who passed by her on the street, and who on more than one occasion has uttered racial or ethnic stereotypes that made me cringe."

Impressive honesty from anybody, much less someone who wants to be President of the United States. If we were all that honest about the issue, maybe we'd have a dialogue that would actually be productive.

One of the genuine disappointments I have in the time my generation and I have taken up space is that we’re still talking about race.

We were supposed to “fix” this. Songs were sung; hands were held. We have enough problems in this world. We’d eliminate skin color as one of them.

We failed. And the next generation doesn’t seem to be doing any better.