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2001; Johns Hopkins University Press; Volume: 24; Issue: 1 Linguagem: Inglês
10.1353/cal.2001.0021
ISSN1080-6512
Autores ResumoThe late 1960s and early 1970s--such a long ago time, although to me it still seems vivid and immediate. My husband and I and our three sons lived in a small river town in Mississippi. My boys adopted, embraced (as teenagers usually do) the uniforms and styles of their peers. They wore bell bottom blue jeans and tie-dyed shirts and their hair was long and their jeans ragged. One of them, I particularly recall, had a lavender undershirt that he was partial to. To his grandmother it must have been a symbol of the chaos and sexual freedom and degradation that she thought threatened young people of that generation, that signaled an impending tearing apart of the fabric of our country's life. She never said so, but I recall her tightened lips and the look of distaste, of revulsion, even, that crossed her face when she first saw my son in his purple undershirt and ragged jeans.
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