My dad is a lot more tolerant now but in the past he was…shall we say…a ‘tad’ racist. (2)
Personal development class

We were to be taught on racism – The teacher opens the lesson with:

“Does anybody know another name for a coloured person”

A few hands go up, mine included.

Somebody was picked out: “Black, miss”
Teacher: “Ok then, any more”
Somebody Else: “Nigger, miss” (A few giggles)
Teacher: “Okaaaaay, Erm, any more?”
Somebody Else: “Coon, miss”
Teacher: “Right, now let’s discuss…..” (here I believe she starts to regret beginning the lesson in this manner)
Me: “Miss, hold on, I know loads more than that” (more giggles)
Teacher: “Oh dear”
I then proceeded to reel off every single racist descriptive comment I had heard in my bulging vocabulary - all learned from my dad. I had ‘em all – not a single race, colour or creed was omitted from the onslaught. For a second it felt good to have more answers than anybody else. I thought there might be a test or something…

I really was that much of an arse-chewingly-dim-jizz-for-brains.

I was sent to the headmaster's office for a verbal kicking.

Cheers again dad.

I told him about it when I got home. He was proud.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Mon 20 Aug 2007, 16:12, Reply)