In my home town, growing up, it often seemed that everything was black, including the kids, laundry drying on the line, buildings and the school dinners. I think that last one was more about the way they had of cooking, leading to the standing joke: “What’s for dinner?” “‘Something grey”. Speaking of colour…
There were four skin colours in my childhood. Coal black, loofer pink, mud grey and blood red. I cannot tell you how many black or yellow faces were in my school. We weren’t counting. If you could stand up after a Watneys Party Pack (8 pints of beer in one can), outrun the school in the annual marathon (I came ninth) or take down a teacher during rugby practice, you were a hero regardless of who your parents were. I liked that world. I still live there. Join me.