I ate lunch with the maid.

Sandra Morris
Armuchee, GA

I grew up in Vidalia, Ga. in the 60’s. I was babysat by women of color who also cleaned house for my mother. I couldn’t understand why they ate lunch after we did. My parents let me eat lunch with the maid after they had their lunch. When I got my driver’s license I refused to let the maid sit in the back seat. She always sat up front with me. As our last maid grew older I would stop at her house on the way to visit my parents and see her first. I loved her very much. She was always happy to see me and my children.I had many arguments with my father about why he wouldn’t pay for improvements to her house. I don’t know why I never felt prejudiced. When our school was integrated, through basketball I made friends with the black boys and would let them touch my very long hair on the way to out of town games. There was a cheerleader with long blonde hair who refused them. I never understood what the big deal was. I have to hand it to my parents. They tolerated my opinions. In college when a group of girls came to spend the night at my house, they never gave any sign that the black girl was the first to eat with them and spend the night at our house.


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