24 Carat Star Time

We moved to Willow Grove when I was nine years old. I basically went from a striving, tightly-knit black family who were an integral part in their community to an almost exclusively white neighborhood and school. There was only one other black family in our apartment complex (they had a son, Billy), and only two other black children in the entire elementary school. This picture was taken the second full year I attended North Willow Grove Elementary School. It must have been about 1968/1969 at the time.

Talk about culture shock.

Mr. Kellerman Zimmermans’s (thanks, Grace!) claim to fame were the thick pretzel sticks he regularly bought and passed out to the class. Each of us got two of those long pretzel sticks or chocolate-covered pretzels a couple times a week during a break in our lessons.

Was it a coincidence that the kid standing on my right – Peter Weiss – had only recently immigrated with his family to the States from Germany? I remember as being (almost painfully) shy and having a strong accent.

There was very little overt racism. If anything lots of curiosity on the part of the other kids, and the usual stereotypes amongst both kids and the adults. At this age (let’s say from 9 to 11 or 12) my major worry was being more physically mature than most of the other girls I hung around. The more substantial feelings of alienation – “otherness” – came later.

Funnily enough, I can still remember many of the names of the kids in my class.

Luckily, I am still in contact with two: Hi Grace! Hi Dottie!