Those shoes don't fit me either and I am white.
I reject white guilt. 'Pod.
White guilt my warrior ass.
I can PROVE that from the day they hit this country's shores in the 1700s up until about 1960, my ancestors were absolutely dirt-poor.
Even my many-times-great-uncle Cap'n John, a Revolutionary War soldier who eloped with his CO's (allegedly attractive and unarguably 16-year-old) daughter Nancy when he was in his sixties, didn't have two nickels.
As soon as I was old enough to catch on, I found family speculation rife (and salacious) regarding the reason young Nancy chose to run off with a poor older man.
(If you're curious, Cap'n John outlived Nancy and all but two of their children, dying at 110. He is my role model, except for the hot 16-year-old part.)