By: Danette Gamble, Kansas City Star Reader Advisory Panel

Whenever anyone asks me where I’m from, I simply say, “Louisiana. It’s a nice place to be from." Hopefully, they get it.

In case you don't, to be from somewhere means you have to have moved.

There’s a line in a book I’ve written, Counting Buzzards, that the main character states: “Louisiana. I call it Never-Ever Land. I swore I’d never, ever come back.”

It’s interesting how life imitates fiction. A couple of years ago, my sister, who lived near Shreveport, Louisiana, died. She was a relatively young woman in her 50’s.

It had been almost a decade since I had been there; but, I went to her funeral. As I drove from the airport to the rural area where my sister had lived, I felt as if I had gone back in time. Nothing had changed.

Her funeral was actually in Mansfield, Louisiana. At the time, Denzel Washington was filming his movie The Great Debaters. People were all excited about getting a glimpse of Denzel.

I was saddened by the fact that downtown Mansfield was so regressed. The movie, whose timeframe was 1930’s, was being filmed there for a reason, Mansfield had not changed.

There were movie extras sitting along the street where the funeral procession took place. I swear it took me back to my childhood in the 1950’s.

When something doesn’t change, whether it is a person, or a town, or a culture, it stagnates.

As I listened and read about Judge Bardwell refusing to marry an interracial couple in Louisiana, sadly I shook my head. However, his quote, “…they use my bathroom” made me literally nauseous.

I’m not disrespecting the people in Louisiana. It has beautiful Southern charm. The people are helpful, friendly and the food can’t be beat. However, alot of the culture has remained stuck in a time when race wasn’t an issue. It wasn’t an issue because “good n-word knew their place.” It saddens me that mentality is still thriving there.

The folks who kept voting Bardwell into office had to know his racist views. Yet, for 34 years he was voted into that position.

As my plane took off to take me home after the funeral, I remember there was a lot of turbulence. My knuckles were white from gripping the armrests. A gentleman sitting next to me told me that everything was going to be okay. I told him I wasn’t afraid of flying. I was afraid of dying in Louisiana.