Aunt Jemima

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October 12, 2018

I flew to Munich Germany by way of JFK with my real mother in November 1988.  I had dropped out of high school and had not yet completed my General Equivalency Degree, yet within a matter of days, I spoke enough German to order food, check us into hotels, and manage the conversations at stores with money.

When we went to rent a car, my mother made mention to the rental car company of changing the color of the car for a different color, the agency did not allow her to change the color of the vehicle.

I have never had a formal German language class in my life, yet I was able to read the map, road signs, and navigate us through Germany, Austria, and Switzerland without any problems and never getting lost.

My mother was miserably unhappy for most of the trip.  I was not.

I have simply always had that ability.

My mother was scared on the Autobahn.  I was not.

The memories and emotions I had from the time I took care of my mother have been brain cut out of my head.  Stories I could have written, so other caregivers would not feel so alone in the world, so that others would be able to read about me, have been removed, on purpose.  Maliciously removed.

There is woman about at my work, at my home, involved in this that I can only describe as having an Aunt Jemima complex.  It is so repulsive.

She is terrified and afraid of poverty and poor people.  She is upper-middle class or greater and has no concept what-so-ever of what it is like to live without money.

There is no shame in being poor.

Yet, she is the same person who has not allowed me to have a job where I am able to financially live on my own.

Remember, I managed an entire household for years.  There is no reason why I should not have a job as a manager or trainer, or other higher-level job.  These are the jobs I applied for after placing my mother in a nursing home.  Where my applications went nowhere.  I have more than enough experience.

But, this person who has been to prep schools, private schools, or Ivy-league schools believed it was more important that I be taught, like her, to stand in front of people and explain the steps a Congressman, or Senator, or Supreme Court judge, gets elected.  Or, the process the President gets elected.

When I, without the benefit of a more formal education, managed to learn foreign languages, read and navigate maps, oh yeah, and make sure people I was traveling with had no harm done to them.  Not to mention being able to understand others beyond my education and economic level.

I have not been limited by my economic level.

I have not been limited by my education.

This woman has such a sick body image of herself, she has been heavily taking it out on me.  So, she can feel better about herself.

This is another black and white problem.  I can only describe it as an Aunt Jemima complex.  I will let you figure and think it out for yourself.  Where she thinks and believes I am her Aunt Jemima.

It is so repulsive.

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