Imodale (Imy) Caulker-Burnett 14907 Lansgate Court Midlothian, VA 23112 804-739-8302 icaulker1@verizon.net
Spouse:
Clive Burnett, retired internal auditor, married October 21, 1967
As a young 18 year old, African girl, alone and thousands of miles away from home, I found myself in a 99% all white school. I was in Saum Hall with Mrs. Spence, the housemother. Someone had informed me that I would have a single room, because when my roommate to be realized I was ‘Negro’, she decided not to come to Otterbein. At the time, I did not understand the significance of her decision and was simply happy to have a room to myself. For a few days, I was the only black student on campus and was feeling very much alone. But a few days later, as I walked towards Towers Hall, I noticed a little black dot coming from the direction of Cowan Hall. Not sure what the dot was, I stood and waited, hoping it was someone black. Yes, it was a black student, and even better, it was my cousin, Lloyd Bailor, ‘60. What a relief!!! Being in a new culture, some things were hard for me to get used to. For instance, the food. There was NO RICE!!! ( Rice is a staple at home, and without it I was lost. Nothing was as satisfying). Fortunately, after six months of misery a friend, Ila Tobias, took pity on me and arranged with her family to take me to a Chinese restaurant. It was like heaven!! I totally pigged out!! Food fights in the cafeteria were another strange phenomenon. Watching grown people toss pudding, mashed potatoes or some other food item at each other, was totally beyond me. The language was also strange. I was teased for not speaking ‘American’(I had learned the British way). Here ‘butter’, was pronounced ‘budder’, the boot of a car, was the trunk, biscuits were cookies and water was ‘worda.’ A ‘sock hop’ was a dance. Even Otterbein, was ‘Odderbein.’ My first football game was also quite confusing. When I thought I was going to see a ‘football’ game as I knew it, I ended up watching a game in which the ball was kicked by only one person, and it was rarely kicked. I have never understood why it is called ‘football’. . Even my name, Imodale, became difficult for some. (My aunt had warned me that it would be shortened,) One day, during a conversation in which he had difficulty getting my name out, Hugh Allen, a science classmate, simply said “ah hell, I’ll just call you Imy.” Imy I became and still remain. Then came Scrap Day!!. To me it was the most ridiculous tradition I had ever heard of and easily my worst experience. Instructions came from the sophomores. Jeans, shorts, a sweat shirt and a tee-shirt were all to be worn inside out and backward. Girls hair was be to put in 100 braids, with packs of gum, pencils and/or candy attached to the braids. Waste paper baskets (I did not know what those were) with candy in them were to be carried above the head, so