"They were racist?" says Carl.
"They didn't seem to know they were, but yes, they were racist. We were never actually badly treated, but we always felt like outsiders, like mascots or pets, but never really part of the household. We seemed to help them feel good about themselves. And it was a huge house we lived in, not quite as big as this place, but approaching the scale. They gave us a couple of rooms in the attic, which are much like the attic rooms here, small, sloped walls and ceilings, and incredibly hot in the summer. They had several vacant rooms, huge and beautifully appointed, on the second floor, but that is not where they wanted us. There was also a kitchenette and a bathroom up there, not in the greatest condition, but functionable, so there was no expectation that we would come downstairs to hang out in the living room, watch TV together, or, worse, share meals together. In fact, we were never once invited to share Christmas, Easter or Thanksgiving with them. They wanted those celebrations to be done with family only. But they were generous with gifts, and we were still welcome Christmas morning for breakfast and gift opening. But that was it.
But they were materially generous. They fully funded my daycare while Mom went out to work cleaning homes and offices. And once a week, Saturday mornings, Madame Gagnon would invite us down to their kitchen for coffee and snacks and to do a regular check-in with us. Otherwise, we remained distinct solitudes.
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