by Rosemary Reeves
Mom and I stood at the bus stop that Saturday. There was a lady standing with us and Mom asked her what time it was. The next thing you know, the lady started talking about the blacks, only she didn’t say “blacks.” She said the “N” word. I looked at Mom and Mom looked back at me with her lips pursed. Mom turned her head and glanced every which way, squirming in her own skin. I don’t think my mother ever figured out how to continue a conversation after a stranger says the “N” word. Challenging it would only cause trouble and we had trouble enough in Upper Holmesburg.