Otherness is not allowed

One of the girls in my second period yesterday was quietly doing her classwork. All was well. I was sitting in my chair in the front of the room checking some work. All of sudden something must have sparked her, because she looks at me and exclaims, "Miss Johnson, I know you, you used to be a slave in the south." "Wha?!" "Yeah, you just, uh, bleached yourself and moved to Baltimore." "Wha?!," I said again., but then decided to give up. Some crap is too weird to acknowledge.
The same girl is currently toting around (and I can only assume reading) a book called Baby Momma Drama.