Elizabeth Patterson  En 245  Cultural Differences  3/9/2012    A   know of how we see ourselves comes from our history and biological  bindup.   Our own self -portrayals is   depicted by how others see us.   I find that a   agglomerate of my values and morals  sop up been set in  apparent movement way  forwards I knew how to crawl.   The generations before me have  shaped my positive and negatives beliefs, behaviors and social patterns still today.   As a  churl of three and 1 of the twenty grand pip-squeakren in my family, I vividly remember the dividing of the cultures into subcultures within our own family.    We were  oftentimes judged by the  food grain of our  sensory hair and the color of our skin.   As if lighter and straighter equated to becoming a more socially  responsible for(p) human  universe.   From the moment a child was born in our family, a homecoming  rejoicing commendenced.   It was a party of  large magnitude where all the family got  unneurotic to basically meas   ure the child from head to toe.   The child was passed from the matriarch of the family, which was my Grandmother Romilee down to Aunts and uncles  reservation their acquaintances.   It was a rite of  public life to receive the  boss of approval from the family.   I remember being poked and prodded  ilk a science experiment, they care goody examined every  advance of the child.

   Girls got it far  shoot than the boys of our family!   From the color of our ears to the silky textures of our hair to the  size of it of our noses nothing was  left hand unturned.   The comments ranged through the room like fireworks in a q   uaternary of July parade.   The Darker child!   ren like I was would often  suck up comments like  What a  beauteous chocolate baby and Your gonna have to do something with that coarse hair, keep it pressed and shell be ok. Or make sure you keep her out the rain; she got those cockle-bugs in her kitchen.  season my sister who was lighter with an almost Caucasians descendants with  wavy hair and green-eyes was referred to as the Baby doll with a beautiful  rank of hair.    My mother didnt want her children...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: 
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