I was one of 10 children and part of the first 5. All of us bided for the affection of our parents. This was in the 40's and both of my parents had been educated. My mother was the daughter of a college president and my father was one of the students from school. Dinnertime was a lively time and that was the only meal, besides Sunday breakfast and dinner that we shared with Daddy. He worked long and hard hours to provide for the family. My parents talked politics and social issues and had a strong sense of family and community. Both were forward thinking and stoic in their belief in social progress and pushing for a better day since I grew up in a segregated and discriminated society. They taught Black History at the dinner table since our school books left out our history and the many contributions African Americans had made to the greatness of this country. The only mention in our history books about African Americans was a paragraph or two mentioning slavery illustrated by a woman picking cotton or a large black man hoeing a field. My parents believed their children would and could make something of themselves by applying themselves and learning a strong sense of responsibility with a commitment to family and community.