Once When I Was Colored . . . (standard:drama, 2728 words)
Author: J P St. Jullian	Added: Jul 14 2002	Views/Reads: 3527/2377	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A nostalgic look back at life for black people in sixties Mississippi and beyond.

Once When I Was Colored 

by J P St. Jullian 

I remember the day that being colored became a reality for me. Yes, I
remember it as I remember being Negro, Afro-American, then Black, and 
now, African American.  Actually I tend mostly to think of myself as 
plain and simply, just another American who happens to have dark skin.  
I make no distinction between that and anything else.  I was born here, 
raised here, and I probably will die here, an American in America. 

It happened when I was ten, and my mother worked as a domestic for a
white lower middle class family whose  name was, let us say, Smith.  In 
this family were three girls and 1 boy.  The two oldest girls, Katie 
and Sarah, were closer to my age.  The two younger children, a girl and 
a boy who were fraternal twins, were just toddlers at the time.  Their 
mother was a Hispanic woman that their father met in California after 
his tour in the Army after W.W. II.  They fell in love and married.  
She was white enough to pass, so she was more or less treated as white 
by the locals, although she did wear the stigma of not being “pure 
white” as the saying goes.  Today her designation would be 
“White-Hispanic” on all job application forms. 

One fine summer day, the Smiths had to go out of town on an important
trip for the whole day.  They asked my mother if she could watch the 
children while they were gone, for which they paid her a nominal slaves 
wage of course. My mother agreed, but told them that she would have to 
include me because she had no one to attend to me while she attended to 
their kids.  They gave her permission to bring me to their house for 
the day, but gave her strict instructions that I was not to interfere 
with or keep company with the older children. 

We arrived at the Smith household and I remained outside on the huge
front porch while my mother went inside.  Mr. Smith came outside and 
talked to me. 

“Hi boy, what yo' name?” he asked. 

“My name James, sur,” I replied, not knowing what to expect from this
strange white man.  I had never been so close to anybody white before 
in my life, so to say that I was uneasy is an understatement. 

“Well, James,” he said to me, “d'ya thank y'all might be able ta run
this heah loan mowa'?  ‘Pre'shates it if'n y'all could do a few thangs 
‘round heah whilst we's gone.” 

He went on to show me how to run the lawn mower, and gave me a list of
other chores to do during the day.  What he was actually doing was 
making sure I didn't have time to be anywhere near his girls.  He told 
me that if I did all those chores like a good boy, he'd give me a 
dollar when he got back.  I said, “Yes'sur,” and proceeded to get 
started. 

When he went back into the house I heard him telling my mother about our
arrangement. 

“Ruby,” he said rather loudly, “I done give yo' boy a list'a chores ta
do ‘round heah, now you see he gits ‘em done, ya heah?  I ‘spects he 
gonna be busy all day long.”  Then they kissed the kids, and got in 
their little black 1960 Ford Fairlane, and drove away.  My mother gave 
me the usual talk that all Black mothers gave their sons when working 
around white girls.  “You take care son, and don' you have nothin' 
whatsoevah ta do wit dem white gals.  If dey tries ta tawk ta ya, jes' 
nod and go ‘bout yo' biznus.” 

I tried my very best to steer clear of Katie and Sarah.  It worked for a
while, but Katie had never been so close to a Black boy before, so her 
curiosity was working overtime.  Sarah was more timid, and stood off to 
herself, but Katie, well, that was another story.  Katie put on a smile 
and sauntered right up to me.  “Is you a culurd boy?” she asked.  I 
looked her in the eyes, and she didn't look stupid, but what did she 
think had dark brown skin and hair like mine that looked like a human 
being?  I decided to be a little smart aleck.  I said, “Well, no. 
Actu'ly, um a white boy.  I jes' stayed in da' sun too long ‘n got 
roasted.”  I didn't expect it, but she giggled, then paused for a 


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