Being in an All Black Foster Home in LA, Foster Homes all together, And Living with my Father

In the times that I lived with my father I was happy but like I said he wasn't without his own problems. I can't remember what he got in trouble for. But I do remember him being about 26 years old and getting in trouble with his parents and being spanked by his father. That was sort of weird for me to see actually. Later on I had another memory of coming home from school and seeing him shove something under the couch really quickly and when he left the room looking at it quickly to see what it was. Turns out it was a tray with which I didn't know what it was at the time but figured out later on was weed, a couple of joints and a weed clip. But like I said I do have good memories of him, like one time my stepmother and my brother and sister left town to visit her parents and he made a steamed artichoke for us which I loved and then another night he'd made tomato soup and I didn't like it so he put a bag of popcorn in it to make it edible for me. And one time I got off of his motorcycle the wrong way and burnt my leg and he tended to me. He was a sweet guy when he wanted to be it was just hard to get that guy to come out. We even went and flew a kite once. But his marriage to my stepmom fell apart and I went to a foster home. I bounced in and out of three foster homes before I went back to my moms. One of the fosters home was an all black foster home in Eastside LA, where I was the only white kid. The Foster Mother did my hair like a little black girls hair, and I got teased by all the kids and was called a reverse oreo. But my roomate protected me. She was really cool and kept me safe from the other kids. But before she came I was the abused little doll of the house's kids mercilously tease from them. At one point I had even been gang raped by all the older boys of the house. They had ganged up on me in the game room. I had blocked that memory til I was in my adult years and had been confused about it til many years later. But eventually I did remember and was able to overcome it. Anyways from there I moved to a womans' house that I was her first foster kid, she was super nice and a great mom to me. I had loved living with her and felt safe there something I hadn't felt in awhile. But I lived there only a year before moving back in with my mom...and that was a whole nother episode all in it's self