i'm so sorry for being so late at posting on this. i know you told me where to go when i first signed in. but with the forth and reunion it kinda slipped my mind. so now...
my first race-based memory was being the only black girl in this daycare on this white college where my mother was the black teacher teaching english on campus. there was this little white boy in the yard playing with me. for some reason i was hit in the eye by a white man. mind you it's in the 70's so prejudices was at high stakes.
well, i ran and told someone but no one helped me or nursed me with a ice pak or medication..nothing! i sat in a corner until my mother was finished teaching a class. when she came to get me and saw my eye and how swollen it was, she demanded to know what happen. they told her and pointed her the man that done it. he boldly told my mother, and i will never forget it, he didn't want no nigger child playing with his son. she called this white man a racist white bastard.
i didn't know what she meant or what that word meant. she never did live long enough to tell me. i learned as i greww up to find out what really happened and and why things were the way they were.
i've also learned as i was growing up to accept me for who i was. i wanted my hair straight like some of the white girls or be skinny like them trying to wear apple bottoms. but couldnt because i was a little too thick. after all those phases thru middle school and high school i gave up trying to be something that i wasnt and start being what i'm supposed to be, a lightskinned brown eye medium height woman. i wouldn't be this way if it weren't for my mother who was a beautiful black cherokee indian woman with beautiful black lips and long thick black hair and thanks to my father who was a medium sized brown skinned curly hair man. i wouldn't be here if it wasn't for them.