Asklemmy

My mom is nice and tolerant, she's pretty much the archetypal mom, she's friends with everyone, caring, etc. she doesn't always "get" some of the more modern "woke" ideas like trans gender identities, institutional racism, etc. but she makes an effort to understand them and generally keeps an open mind, and probably most importantly understands that she doesn't necessarily need to "get" something to be accepting of it. As an example, one of my sister's best friends since childhood is some sort of nonbinary, and my mom had a really hard time wrapping her head around they/them pronouns, and just kind of generally didn't understand it. That said, she still makes an honest attempt to use the correct pronouns, and understands that regardless of how they refer to themselves, what they look like, etc. it's still the same person my sister has been hanging out with since preschool, who is always welcome in our home and is essentially regarded as her 3rd child, and that's really the important thing.

My dad, in general, I'd say is somewhat begrudgingly tolerant. I suspect that if he wasn't stuck with my mom, my sister, and me he probably would have gotten sucked down some alt right Fox news rabbit hole, but since we've all been around he's kind of accepted that he's wrong, but hasn't necessarily gone so far as to try to be right. He's kind of the picture of "old-person racist" he doesn't outright dislike people of different races, but he doesn't try very hard to see past stereotypes either. As far as being nice, in general he's awkward, not unpleasant but not really someone who's oodles of fun to talk to, but when he gets a bug up his ass about something he's an asshole.

My grandfather on my mother's side died before I was born, everything I've ever heard about him makes him sound like a fun, nice guy, though people often don't like to talk ill of the dead, so hard to say. As far as how tolerant he was or wasn't, I can't really say, the two data points I have are that

1. He'd loudly complain about the "dagos" when the local Italian church had their feast because people would come in from out of town and just kind of have picnics on any open patch of grass including their front lawn and leave a bunch of trash behind, and really while the slur was unnecessary, I can totally get why that would upset him. He didn't have animosity towards Italians in general, it just happened that the out of towners littering on his lawn were Italian.

2. My mom played with black kids growing up, and was kind of surprised when she got older that the civil rights movement was a big deal because she lived through it and she never remembered there being any fuss about the black people in town, so at the very least my grandparents weren't outwardly racist in her youth.

Beyond that it's kind of hard to say.

My grandmother on that side I wouldn't exactly say was nice, she was a loud, cranky busybody, and by most accounts was pretty much all her life. I may be a little unfair to her because her personality and mine just didn't jive very well, but still I think most people could agree that she was a little extra. She also got a bit racist in her old age, and it's hard to say if it was just the dementia talking or not. She did live a pretty interesting life, traveled a bit, and had a pretty active social life, so at least some people found her pleasant to be around.

On my dad's side, my grandmother died when I was a kid. She was always very nice, I can't say how tolerant she was, that just never really came up. That said, she had been a drinker for much of her life, and from what I understand her kids from different marriages got treated pretty differently, and she was pretty nasty to one of my dad's half sisters, doted on another, and my dad was kind of somewhere in the middle, and some of that favoritism kind of spilled over to my generation, she never treated my sister or I badly, but I can see now that she favored my cousins over us a bit.

My grandfather is probably the most interesting case here. He was very much one of God's own prototypes. He had a lot of personality, and was never one to shy away from a fight or argument, so if he was nice kind of depended on if he liked you or not. He was a bit of a womanizer, so on one hand he could be at least superficially nice when he wanted to be, but also didn't necessarily respect women the way he should have, though he was never violent or abusive to them.

As far as tolerance goes, there were plenty of people out there of all colors, creeds, and classes that he didn't like for a great many reasons, some good, some not so good, but I never once heard him make a disparaging remark about someone's race. Having served in the Pacific in WWII, he did have sort of a weird grudge against Japan that he never let go of, but it was more against the county of Japan itself, not of japanese people, not of japanese countries, and certainly not against japanese Americans. Terms like "colored" or "jap" never quite left his vocabulary, but they were never said with any malice, they were just a holdover from a time when those words were more acceptable.

He worked as a bus driver for most of his life. On one of his routes, there was a stop near a business that employed a lot of black women. There are still some older black women in the area who remember him for driving the bus because he was the only driver who would wait at that stop to make sure they could catch the bus when they got off work because the bus came at the same time they would be leaving, other drivers would just keep driving if they weren't there when the bus came.

I doubt he ever thought too deeply about this, but given his age, he would have started driving a bus at around the same time the civil rights movement was really picking up steam and when bus boycotts and freedom riders and such were happening in other parts of the country (were from the north and the local buses had never been segregated in our area.) which is kind of wild to think about.

He ended up in a nursing home in his last years, had a black roommate for a while that he got along great with, there was a lot of black staff there that he spoke highly of and they all seemed to get a kick out of him (he was probably one of the more cognitively with-it, and certainly one of the most ambulatory patients there, coupled with his naturally big personality he was kind of a novelty, and he honestly kind of thrived in a nursing home environment, he didn't have to worry about cooking or cleaning and he thought that was pretty much the best thing ever)