Being a sixty’s child conjures up different memories to those I remember seeing of sunshine, hippies, flowers, peace and love. Here is a cool website that paints a picture of those very memories of a 60′s hippy.
1964: My first memories are of me crying, of feeling afraid and the raised, angry voices of my parents arguing. Where was I? Why did I cry each time I was approached by an adult of ‘colour?’ This was home, a home I was unfamiliar with and parents I did not know. It turns out that I was a child who had been ‘boarded out’ to a Scottish nanny as a baby and whose parents did not bring me home until I was nearly 3 years old.