I remember reading “Black Like Me” in junior high, then I got all righteous with my parents about how Negroes were treated...I'll never forget that raised eyebrow that always precluded a lecture:
” I never owned a slave, we couldn't afford one if we wanted one, and I've never stood in the way of another mans success, no matter what color he was, so get off your high-horse or get out of our house”
That’s right.
In my parents’ house you ate what was served (and were grateful for it) or you didn’t eat. You also didn’t mooch off your parents until you were 25.