Passage 2 

When I was 11,I lived in a small town in Kentucky. Everyone there was judged according to his social position and material possessions. Our leading citizens considered themselves aristocrats (贵族)in the respectful Southern tradition. Despite my youth, I knew that being accepted depended on my being “somebody”. 

My father was a doctor for horses and was one of the most successful horse clinic owners in the state. My friends-and, more important, their parents一knew that horse trainers and owners brought their animals from five neighboring states to be treated by my father. And so I benefited socially by being “Dr. Watson, s son”. 

My family lived on a two-acre piece of land in a new house that wasn’t part of a suburban development. My father had bought the land and built the house that my mother had always wanted.Since it was the first all-electric house in town, I gained added prestige. I was now “Dr. Watson’s son living in Dr. Watson’s new house”. 

My sister and I were the first children in town to own ponies. My father built a shelter for them himself. He fenced an area for riding, and bought us all the equipment. 

So，when I was 11，I was “Dr. Watson’s son living in Dr. Watson’ s new house and owning his own pony. I was sure that I was , definitely superior to the average child in town. 

For this reason, I was shocked to open the front door one day to find Billy and Charles, two neighbor children, standing on my front porch. 

“Are you and Debbie going to ride your ponies today?”Billy asked me. 

“ No，”I said，as rudely as possible. 

“Well, then，Charles and I are going to ride them this afternoon. ” 

I couldn’t believe them. “ Oh，no，you’re not. Those are my ponies，and no one rides them unless I say so! ” 

Charles’s reply astounded me. “We already asked your father at the clinic，and he said we could ride your ponies whenever we wanted as long as you and Debbie weren’t riding them. He said we could, even if you said no. ” 

I vividly remember those words, because I swore then that I would hate my father forever for letting those w“colored”boys ride my ponies. 

Watching from the back window, I saw Billy and Charles catch my pony,use my equipment and ride through my horse area.The precedent(先例)was set. In the days and weeks that followed, Billy and Charles even brought along friends to share in the fun. Sometimes they rode all day. 

It wasn’t long before my friends and their parents found out that Dr. Watson let “coloreds” ride his children’s ponies. The ironic comments from people in town wereerodingmy air of superiority. 

But my father didn’t seem to care what the neighbors said.My mother ignored my complaints, and my sister was too young to understand.As for the ponies，they didn’ t seem to care who rode them.