On Sunny Lane - Prejudices


Sometimes, we don’t realize how much our mothers influence our lives—even after they are gone. I like to believe that I am who I am because of, or in spite of, my mother and her influence. It’s a little bit of each. But, mostly, I am who I am simply because I am who I am. I’ve worked hard at it and nobody else deserves the credit—or the blame.

Well, recently Sweetheart and I were at the Sunday night dance and we took part in the cake walk. The term is used loosely, because sometimes the prize is a cake, sometimes the prize is a giant cookie and, sometimes, the prize is a pie. The night we won the prize was, not one, but three pies. Three small pies, but three nonetheless. One of the pies was apple, one of the pies was cherry and one was a berry pie. At first, we thought it was blueberry. Upon further chewing we came to the conclusion that it was elderberry pie. Well. You could have knocked me over with a feather! I didn’t know I would like elderberry pie!

In all of my years growing up at Mom’s house, I never tasted elderberry anything. As a throwback to her childhood, Mom hated elderberry everything! She said that, because elderberries were plentiful on her parents farm and money was scarce, her mother (my grandmother) made jelly and pies and other sweets with elderberries. Although she made strawberry jam, she only served it when there was company for dinner. As a result, I never got to taste it. Fact is, I might have liked it sooner if I had got the chance to taste it sooner. I was a victim of my mother’s prejudice.

Mom had other prejudices. I remember one day, when I was about 10 years old. We were visiting at my aunt’s house. The two of them were discussing race relations and how certain ones should be relegated to “their place”. They also were of the opinion that certain races should not “mix”. I was in the yard playing with my aunt’s kittens. They were all colors. They were beautiful and they were having a great time playing with each other. It was then that I came to the conclusion that, if kittens didn’t care what color each of them were, why should humans. And the entity who created kittens also created humans. While we wouldn’t want to be color blind, it would be an asset in this situation.

Of course, we don’t need to be color blind to aid in forming our opinions, we just need to be our own person. We can be who we are because of, or in spite of, other people and their prejudices. We are who we are because we are who we are. Let’s not put the blame on someone else.

Dorothy has recently published a book, “Miles and Miracles”, and it can be purchased on Amazon and Kindle. Her email address is:dorothybutzknight@gmail.com

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