Before I retired in 1991, one of my black engineers and I were in the line at the cafeteria. As we passed some beautiful slices of watermelon he said "I'd love to have one of those but I wouldn't dare put it on my tray". I asked him which one he wanted, put it on my tray and we went back to my office to eat lunch.
Why do stereotypes allow people to keep from enjoying themselves?
I guess some people still find them to be painful.
The only stereotype that I've suffered from is that white guys can't dance. And in my case that is largely true. But I would just as soon sip a martini and watch. Which in my case, I suppose, is yet another cliche.
And, of course, this is not anything like growing up black in the south during the era of Jim Crow. Which is something that I doubt that I will ever fully comprehend, even if I am not blind to it.
I said "who cares" and kept enjoying that watermelon.
(Thought you'd enjoy this little story w)