I hated my childhood. It was loathsome. My parents were deaf and dumb. Profoundly so. They could make noises when they were emotionally aroused, but they couldn't form it into speech.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
When I was a kid, I hated being talked to as a kid. I don't know if all kids feel that way, but I seem to remember awful things in the crib, something like people doing baby talk in the crib and sticking their big, fat faces in there and scaring me. So I always talk to kids as if they were a person.
I don't remember much of my childhood. My father passed away when I was six, and sadly, I don't have the fuzziest, foggiest memory of him - what his voice was like, anything he ever said to me, nothing. My early years are a total blur.
My childhood, I would say, was a bit sad.
When I was a kid, I resented my grandparents not speaking the perfect English I wanted to speak.
I had a beautiful childhood and a lovely childhood. I just didn't like being a child. I didn't like the rank injustice of not being listened to. I didn't like the lack of autonomy.
I hated, when I was a kid, being told that 'Black people don't do that.' And the white kids at school didn't accept me because I was black, and the black kids in my neighborhood didn't accept me because they thought I thought I was white.
I love my childhood. It was a beautiful childhood.
I think as a kid I always liked to listen to people. I loved hearing stories.
I didn't have a normal childhood by any means. But it was what it was, and I appreciate what my parents did for me.
I have nothing to say about my childhood. It was a perfectly pleasant upbringing - it's not like it was unhappy or anything.