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During the war years - I must have been about 4 at the time - I remember having a small red spot on my arm. I was quite proud to tell people "a bomb did dat.."!
A few days ago, it was a friend's birthday, and I jokingly commented, "I hope he doesn't come to school in his birthday suit." My boyfriend looked blankly at me and said, "We have to wear uniforms. He can't wear a special outfit because it's his birthday!" After taking my boyfriend aside and explaining that being in your birthday suit meant being naked, he looked very embarassed. He's a senior in high school, and he thought until that day that a birthday suit was a special outfit that you only wore for special occasions.
My partner thought women used the brown packing tape as wax strips.
I was told by my mother when I was very young that I wasn't allowed to drink coffee because it would make you turn black (this was back in the day when being prejudice was very common. I never could figure out how babies got black.
My mom and I were on a bus when I was about 4 and I saw an African American man sitting a few seats away. I asked my mom why his skin was black and she told me to go ask him. When I went up to him and asked why his skin was darker than mine, he said..."I drink a lot of chocolate milk.."
So from then on I thought that white people liked white milk and black people liked chocolate milk.
An African American Friend of mine once told me when I was little that God made us all in a oven. I then asked her "Does that mean you were burnt in the oven? Or was I not cooked long enough?" She thought it was hilarious and never answered me so I went on believing that for a long time.
I am ashamed to admit this, but when I was little, I used to think that if you touched a black person, the color on their skin would rub off.
I used to believe that people's skin worked like toilet-paper.You know how when you get to the end of a cheap roll of toilet-paper, it is all wrinkly and loose? Well, I thought it worked the same with skin - that you had a set number of layers which came off and when you got to the last few layers it became all wrinkly and thin! Obvious...
I was 4 when told a total whopper by my dad. He said if I stepped into the street, he would "skin me alive". It worried me so much I never did it, but I always thought I'd be really cold without skin and all my guts would fall out.
When I was little I was fascinated by a scar my Dad had. I remember him explaining it was from having his appendix removed. He went on to tell me about how the surgeon had asked if he wanted it fastening up with a zip or a button so he could use it as a pocket, but he'd decided his trouser pockets were okay, so he had it stitched up completely.
I was about 16 before it occured to me that Dad had been kidding me.
I was born in the Watts area of Los Angeles in 1960. When an adult. I overheard an adult talking about the "colored" people moving to our block. I imagined a face with swirling colors.
my grandmother told me when i was little that if you did not dry between your toes that your toes would web togeather.Today as an adult I still dry between each toe twice.
When i was young i had some friends who were black. I was amazed to find that although they were completely dark they had white hands and feet. I just assumed that they must of been leaning against the wall when god painted them
I grew up very sheltered. I argured for over a year with my girlfriend about the coloring of African Americans bottoms. I told her that I had proof that they were white. The Coppertone Ads on Billboards proved it. One day while at our local park a young gal was there and we asked her. She showed us her butt to prove that I was a kook. To this day, I can't believe that I not only believed this, but that I had the gall to ask.
My Mother told me that if you get a Tatoo your skin will fall off.
When I was a kid I believed that the black people were people who never took a bath...
I used to think that the way you got an itch, was that caterpillars were crawling around under your skin.
When I was tiny, I loved to crawl under the table at restaraunts. I was at Pizza Hut with my mom, mammaw, and great-grandmother one day. I dove under the table and found out my very dignified great grandmother had stretchable skin!!! It was amazing! I figured out that as you aged, your skin stretched. It was pantyhose!
I used to believe that fat/skin was cheese and you could just cut it off.
i used to believe that people started from their birth-marks. Whereever your birth mark was is where you started as a baby and grew out from that point. I "started at my left knee!"