one summer day my father sent me to buy wire for our farm. at 16, i liked 36 better than driving our truck, 37 this time i was not happy. my father had told me i’d have to ask for credit(赊账) at the store.
sixteen is a 38 age, when a young man wants respect, not charity. it was 1976, and the ugly 39 of racial discrimination was 40 a fact of life. i’d seen my friends ask for credit and then stand, head down, while the store owner 41 whether they were “good for it.” i knew black youths just like me who were 42 like thieves by the store clerk each time they went into a grocery.
my family was 43 . we paid our debts. but before harvest, cash was short. would the store owner 44 us ?
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