We’re Northeastern parents of a certain ilk, and our children grew up apple-picking. I recently told then part of a story they never knew.
Its All About Perspective.
Our children were little, and I remember then running ahead of us, laughing and running through the orchard. My husband and his college roommate laughed,
Centuries of chattel slavery, and we’re paying for the privilege of providing stoop labor. Then, we pay, by the pound, for the yield.My husband and his college roommate, apple-picking.
I don’t regret taking our children apple-picking, but it was a hilarious conversation. It made me aware of my privilege, and my capacity to be both a Black Liberation theologist and African Nationalist, and full-on middle class.
I can be both/and.