Palm Beach County residents were asked:
Please tell us about an important moment in your life that would help someone understand what it’s like living in your neighborhood.
The stories and micro-narratives they submitted (as part of the We Are Here SenseMaker project) are listed below. Click ZOOM IN to learn more about the community member and how they interpreted their submission. NOTE: Some stories were partially transcribed by volunteers who shortened the narratives and referred to the storytellers in the third person (e.g., “her experience was” instead of “my experience was”).
Many people may say. Things they don’t mean ! The community I growing up in was a community of violence if you have ever been told to stop doing things please stop when you are told always listen !
When growing up I was mixed with African American and Chinese . I would get picked on very often especially when my Chinese mother would drop me off to school. Many kids would question me if I were to claim to be African American like my father. All the kids I grew up with would pick on me and my facial features that favored my mother. Which also made me a very guard child because I didn’t like when people would question my ethnicity even to this day.
I learned that there’s a lot about Delray that I didn’t know, but found out that Delray has a lot of history and is broken down and built based on the history of it. I enjoy taking guest and family members around showing them historical monuments, giving the history of it, and telling them what it’s like living there. It’s amazing how many opportunities are given to people living there.
An important moment in my life is when segregation is now continuing again in our community.Many people don’t see how badly people treat us . We are equal and have the rights as everyone else . Growing up here in the 1940s and 1950s, couldn’t visit the public library near My house, but instead had to travel to the “colored” library in the historically black room I attended a school for black children, where we received second-hand books, and where the school day was half the length of that of white schools, because the black school had too many children and not enough funds.
The neighborhood was a family, every child was each other’s, whenever there were needs, the others would help. My mother died in 1977, my neighbor had 4 girls but made sure we had decent clothes to wear. Born one of thirteen children, dad worked on the farm, woke up at 3 am and came home late. Mom was authority figure, caring for one another. Did not have much but made sure we had enough. We didn’t see ourselves as being poor. If someone was sick, we helped each other.