There is a picture of me at the age of 7 or 8 decked out in my cowboy suit – replete with hat, gun, scarf and cowboy boots. My gun is drawn and pointed in the direction of my sister Charlotte, four years younger. Charlotte is appropriately attired in a cowgirl suit as we stand smiling in front of a well-decorated Christmas tree. Clutched in Charlotte’s left arm is a doll, a White doll.

It was not usual for Black girls to have White dolls in the 1950s and at our age, it seemed no big deal. But it was a big deal to my stepfather, William Polk, who was concerned about the self-esteem of Charlotte and, later, Chris and Sue, my other sisters. Although Black dolls were rare back then, William thought my sisters should only play with dolls that looked like them.

With only a fifth grade education, my stepfather relied on his intuition to reach that conclusion. But what he felt in his gut was later quantified by husband-and-wife psychologists Kenneth B. and Mamie Clark. They conducted groundbreaking doll studies in the 1950s in which they sought to learn how America’s concept of beauty impacted the self-esteem of African-American children.

The couple conducted a series of tests in which they showed Blacks kids White dolls and Black dolls. In each instance, most of the Black children preferred to play with White dolls over Black ones. Moreover, they considered the White dolls good and pretty and the Black dolls bad and ugly.

Their research was cited in Brown v. Board of Education, the landmark 1954 Supreme Court case outlawing segregated public schools.

Even during the season we celebrate the birth of Christ, racism does not take a holiday. And one of our defenses, in and out of season, has been to resort to laughter.

I can’t say that was my frame of mind in 1984 when I was covering Jesse Jackson’s first presidential bid. When you are on the road seven days a week, often working 12- to 15-hour days, the mind comes up with all kinds of whacky things. Such was the case when I made the mistake of telling the candidate that I believed Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer was a brother.

At first, Jesse Jackson was dismissive. But that didn’t prevent me from arguing my point. “Think about the lyrics,” I suggested.

“Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer
had a very shiny nose.
And if you ever saw him,
you would even say it glows.”

Don’t act like you don’t know what I am talking about. When it gets cold, our nose definitely shine. But next came the definitive proof – at least in my mind – that Rudolph was Black.

“All of the other reindeer
used to laugh and call him names.
They never let poor Rudolph
join in any reindeer games.”

It can’t be clearer than that. Can’t you just see them calling poor Rudolph the R-word? And of course, they didn’t allow him to join their games.

But when the big, fat, bearded one chose Rudolph to guide his sleigh, everyone suddenly had a change of heart.

“Then all of the reindeer loved him
as they shouted out with glee,
Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer,
you’ll go down in history!”

Jesse Jackson’s response? “George, you have lost your mind.”

Apparently, I hadn’t. It wasn’t long before I heard Jesse Jackson telling my Rudolph story on radio. He was telling it to Tom Joyner as if it were his story. But any journalist who has traveled with Jesse Jackson for any length of time knows that’s an occupational hazard.

Sylvester Monroe, a correspondent for Newsweek magazine, showed Jackson a greeting card on the campaign that had caught his attention. Again, Jackson did not appear to be impressed – not until we heard Jackson reciting the words during a speech. That’s classic Jesse Jackson.

Back to the White dolls, you would think that after nearly 50 years – and millions of Black dolls – that Black kids would have better self-esteem. If you think that, think again.

In 2005, Kiri Davis, an 18-year-old filmmaker, decided to replicate the doll experiments with 21 Black children at a daycare center in New York. In her experiment, 15 of the 21 children preferred the White doll, whom they considered nice and pretty.

My stepfather knew what he was talking about.