Imagine
the scenario, a posh white woman, of around forty, a goofy version of
Liz Taylor, introduces a mixed race child as her daughter. Is she
hers might be a reasonable response in 1970s Britain, but in 2013?
Well after all the kiddie trafficking stories in the news recently I
was reminded of the way people used to respond to me and my mother
when she introduced me as her daughter.
We
lived in what was then a small, mainly white and very conservative
town and the response was always the same; jaws dropped and a look of
confusion was quickly replaced with a look of disapproval. Everyone
involved shifted about uncomfortably. My mum would insist that I was
indeed her child, but as the flush of quiet rage left her cheeks all
that remained was a sadness.
Praise be a mini me!?!
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