My father is a stubborn south Texas Mexican. Overtime he came to accept that his daughter was gay, and even welcomed her wife to the family. That being said I always felt he had maintained a disdain towards gay men. On a family snow trip to a cabin, my sister’s gay friend “Junior,” drove. It’s a trip seeing someone’s opinion of an entire group of people change. My father sat shotgun, and over the course of the drive he began to see Junior as just a regular human being. It was crazy  witnessing this in real time. Junior yelled at, cursed, and generally admonished other drivers in the same fashion my father would have. All it took was 5 hours in a car for my dad’s prejudice to come crumbling down. We sadly lost Junior to cancer a few years later, but that moment will always maintain a special place in my heart. RIP my dude.