My dad was in Vietnam for US imperialism. In Vietnam he knew fluent Vietnamese and talked to NLF fighters in cafes. My dad, although not really active politically, taught me from his experience, that the Vietnamese were right. It was an experience that made him very bitter and angry and far too pessimistic to really be considered a red. Yet, he also was very clear in teaching that racism was wrong, that sexism was wrong, that there is no god, that social programs are good, and that the planet needs to be protected. While I never had red diapers, it was the accumulated experiences of past generations that caused me to raise the red flag in our family at the age of 15. By 16 I was already in Nicaragua supporting the Sandinistas and on picket lines battling the cops with striking workers.