Reading some more of the Griff R-J book and struck by the ordinariness of all the boys names. When did things change ?
Back in my days of school we all had solid traditional names: Janet, John, Michael, Brian, Melanie, Guy, Linda. Julie, Sarah. Now at my childrens' school there's hardly a name we would have recognised in 1964. Who had ever heard of a child called India, Tiffany, Saffron, Harmony, Darla or Sabian. Who would have given their child such an old fashioned name as Edward, Harry, Cecily, as Henry in 1964. It would have seemed absurd and pompous.
What was it like in the 60s to have an unusual name or a 'foreign' name ? I remember one girl called Mignon (great name, I think) who was teased relentlessly. So was one of my friends who had a Finnish Mum and ate 'strange' soup and rye bread at home. Personally I loved it. I loved going to his house and speaking to his Mum and I loved the glamorous Italian woman who lived 3 doors up and whose house had shiny marble or wood floors instead of carpet. Her kitchen always had different smells to ours and her daughters were dressed immaculately.
Now everyone seems to be more tolerant and ready to experiment with different names, cuisine etc. but I wonder if underneath, that much has changed. I talk to our Polish window cleaner and hear how his grandchildren (who go to my daughter's school) are apparently accepted and yet he himself is exploited and ripped off by his employer. I think of the Portugese people who were attacked in Thetford last year (not a million miles from here). I think of walking down Woodbridge Thoroughfare a few years back. We were with my brother-in-law's then-girlfriend and her two little boys. All three are black -- not pale 'acceptable' honey colour, but black black. She was very fashionable, very elegant and very beautiful with a serene way about her. Her boys were well behaved handsome chaps. I asked my partner who is born and bred Woodbridge if people were looking at us. I had this uncanny feeling we were being gawped at. Was I paranoid or was it real ? 'They're looking at her and the boys' said my partner. We were a spectacle in that sleepy Suffolk market town --- even though for years there had been a US base not 5 miles away with GIs of every hue. We went to a little pub and ate lunch and still the stares remained. It was that day that I got an tiny inkling of how it must be to be apparently different.
Why is it that people can't just see people as people, good bad and in between, regardless of colour or race or religion. I just don't get it and never have.
2 comments:
These are beautiful thoughts. My daughter is bi-racial and now 23. It was always very difficult for her...not being accepted in either world -- the black one, because she was too white, or the white one because she was too black. It was difficult for me, too, being married to a black man (my ex-husband) 23 years ago....and I got to see and experience, first hand, racial discrimination. Very difficult to deal with when it is someone whom you love. Love sees no skin colors.
Oh that's so true. Even now, if we have a party and some of my partner's cousins come along you can see a look of surprise on peoples' faces. Two of them are married to black men and in this village you never see a black face of course. It seems even more surprising to some that one of these men is doing rather well as he steps out of his new Mercedes.
As far as I'm concerned, people are people and I judge them by their actions.
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