As a boy, the thing I found most amazing about my white friends is that they could call their parents by their first names. Not mom or dad but John or Ellen. Even now, I do not have the guts or nerve to call my father by his first name, Ebenezer. Only if I discovered that he was a murderer or rapist would I call him Ebenezer. I must admit that way back then, as a boy, when visiting, say, Emanuel Sinclair (his mother was a feminist filmmaker) or Robert Bertram (his father manufactured army beds), when they spoke to their parents in such direct terms, it was very impressive indeed! It indicated that white people had really broken from the eternal traditions and laws of the family. White people had in my boy eyes managed to flatten the family hierarchy. Their home life was a democratic substance out which no Antigone could emerge.
1
3
5
7
9
18
21
23
24
25
31
32
33
34
36
38
39
41
42
43
45
Comments (45) RSS