tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2460777384634423785.post1688435461662208191..comments2023-10-07T07:48:58.090-07:00Comments on mrsmorrisart: * A Story *mrsmorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10605484729045138740noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2460777384634423785.post-19351027919656738422009-01-06T08:52:00.000-08:002009-01-06T08:52:00.000-08:00I can relate to your story. I was raised in hickvi...I can relate to your story. I was raised in hickville, Missouri. I never even saw a black (African-American person), except on T.V., and that wasn't too often. I remember seeing black people when I went to Six Flags in St. Louis when I was 7 or 8. That memory stands out, I didn't think anything "bad" just a new experience. A black family moved into hickville (Ava) once, I have no idea what would have brought them there. I was young, but remember the adults making a big deal out of it, the family didn't stay long. I moved to Rock Island, IL. when I was 15. Culture shock to say the least. I was raised around the "N" word, but I was so determined to end that racism. I even dated a black guy when I was 19. My mom still doesn't know to this day. I didn't share much of my teen years with my mom. She was very judgemental. I vowed never to be that way. My son has dated a couple of black girls, I didn't judge. I totally agree with you when you said there are good people and bad people of every race, everywhere. I have breast cancer and am bald right now. I sure wouldn't want to be judged because I look "different" or have a disease. I still worry about that sometimes. I wear hats, but it's obvious. Well, that's my 2 cents. You have a happy New Year.Stacy Lamberthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15913687327306613003noreply@blogger.com