My father and I have had opposing viewpoints since day one. And one day they clashed, in a big way. Basically it boiled down to one silly topic, but my father is relentless, and I am stubborn: Call African Americans 'African Americans' or 'Blacks'? I, beleive they should be called African Americans, not black, because they aren't black. And my father the latter. The debate got heated, and my mother tried to calm us down. We didn't. Obviously. Eventually, long story short, my father, in fit of rage, tossed some of my books across the room and told me to "get out of my house!"
I did, taking my notebook with me. And, though the tears made it hard to see, wrote that.
It's simple I know.
But it makes a point.
Point made.