tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722088384595765913.post5036704640899330971..comments2024-03-05T20:02:45.776-05:00Comments on Southern Fried Children: Race RelationsKellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991384996924478820noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722088384595765913.post-33069702994230916632011-04-28T21:07:57.209-04:002011-04-28T21:07:57.209-04:00Isn't it funny how much it doesn't matter ...Isn't it funny how much it doesn't matter to them, and how they don't have any problem talking about it? LOLKellyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06991384996924478820noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722088384595765913.post-42339201262480931302011-04-28T14:37:24.725-04:002011-04-28T14:37:24.725-04:00This is a conversation my parents overheard betwee...This is a conversation my parents overheard between Caleb (my nephew) and Clay (Caleb's friend) about Caleb’s love life:<br /> <br />Clay: Caleb, do you have a girlfriend?<br /> <br />Caleb: Yes. Her name is Trinity. She’s black.<br /> <br />Clay: {horrified} She’s black? You can’t marry her.<br /> <br />Caleb: Why not?<br /> <br />Clay: ‘Cause you’re white and she’s black and if you marry her, your babies will be Mexican and you won’t be able to talk to ‘em ‘cause you don’t speak Mexican.<br /> <br />Caleb: {horrified} Really? But I really like Trinity.<br /> <br />Clay: Well then I guess you need to learn to speak Mexican . . . . . . <br /> <br />Recounting this story has given me a laugh on more than one day . . . . . just thought I’d share.Wendy Mundynoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722088384595765913.post-15833727274120816022011-04-22T13:16:12.186-04:002011-04-22T13:16:12.186-04:00I remember our oldest determining race/color by wh...I remember our oldest determining race/color by what people were wearing. As in 'it was the blue man" or "that green lady." So we're at a Christmas parade and after 90 minutes sitting next to a couple of African American ladies, we all stood up to leave. One of the ladies held up her blanket which was black, to fold it. She stretched across her body to begin folding and our oldest says "Hey, you're black!" We were mortified, but the woman kindly replied, "Yes, yes I am." It was night, but everyone could see we were "red."Jameshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03021302677143930228noreply@blogger.com