For as long as I can remember, my parents have spoken to me about the fun of traveling abroad. They married after college, and have taken countless trips together ever since. When I was born, my parents took a break from their extensive traveling to raise me, but I learned to read from travel brochures about European and Asian destinations. My mother always reminds me that the brochure I constantly reached for was entitled “DANKE SCHOEN GERMANY!!!” I loved the pictures, and when I finally understood what the words meant, I loved everything I heard about it. So of course, when I was 15 and my parents decided we would take our first family trip abroad, our tickets were booked for Berlin, Germany. I couldn’t wait to make my own travel memories.

We landed at Tegel International Airport in Berlin without any problems or delays. After baggage claim, we navigated our way to the taxi queue. I was a little surprised by the lack of diversity, because I knew Berlin was an internationally-populated city. I Passed it off as the airport environment, though. Eventually, we got to the front of the queue, a taxi pulled up, and a skinny old black man got out to help us with our bags. After we were seated and ready to go, he asked “Vere to?” We told him the Westin Grand Berlin, and soon we arrived. He left us with our bags; we left him with a tip, and my dad went to retrieve a bellboy and our room key. The bellboy led us to an elevator, up to the third floor, and then down to our room. When he opened our door, we were greeted by an open sight of a bustling Berlin avenue through the window. We settled into the pink-walled atmosphere quickly, and we all fell soundly asleep as soon as our American heads touched the soft German pillows.

The next morning we woke around 10 am Berlin-time, and left the hotel at 11:15 to go eat brunch at a bistro recommended by the hotel concierge. We were served quickly by eager staff, and the food was perfect. After brunch, as we roamed the streets, we saw people of all races and cultures going to and coming from random places. Everywhere we went for directions, food, shopping, or browsing, we were met by friendly people of all races who treated us with respect.

During our second week in Berlin, we finally made our way to the outskirts of the city’s metropolitan area. We were in a downtown area in the early afternoon when we saw a Swastika spray-painted on a door with German letters underneath. My parents told me not to stop and stare, but I was so shocked that I couldn’t move. My parents dragged me with them, and I asked them what the German letters said. At first they were reluctant to tell me, but eventually my mom revealed that it said “DIE JEWS! DIE CHRISTIANS! DIE BLACKS! NAZI IS FOREVER!!” Though I was startled by the display of hate in a city that had embraced me so lovingly, I realized that hate groups exist everywhere. When we left Berlin later that week to return to the United States, I felt nothing but affection for the city. When we got our film developed with pictures of the friends we made and sites that we visited, I felt a great appreciation for the ability to travel abroad as an African American male with my African American family and be treated with dignity and respect. I cherish that experience, and realize why my parents have such a passion for traveling. I look forward to making more travel memories in the future, without the fear of allowing racial discrimination to spoil the journey.