JUNE 30

I've always refused to talk about my 'real' family, my biological family.  I never believed the things that happened to me were my fault but at a certain age, I slowly began to realize that others sure seemed to.  I became very ashamed of who I was although nothing was ever under my control. 

My family was really poor.  My mother had 10 kids in all and finally maried after the last one, something completely unheard of in that day and age.  We didn't know it at the time as we were so young, but we were already 'marked' at birth.  Born to an unwed mother in the 60's sentenced you automatically to a life of welfare, squalor and rejection.  Nowadays, young girls pop out 'illegitimate bastards' all the time.  That's what they called us, you know, and that meant there was no hope for us.  Oh, I know there was the whole peace and hippie movement and 'love' children were being born, but that seemed to be further away, somewhere else.  Where we lived, everyone lived in perfect families in perfect harmony...and then there was our kind...the kind that were embarrassing to live near.  The kind that you pretended not to see on the street or crossed over the street to avoid and tried your best to move away from.  The kind that brought your property value down...but what did any of that have to do with me?  Or any of my siblings?  At birth and toddler-hood, we were still innocent...mostly of the fact that we were already 'marked'!

http://www.dealwithwhites.com/