Beads of sweat raced down my sun-ravaged face.   My feet cried out in torment to be released from these badly-fitting boots, I made a mental note that if given the chance by the next gorger woman, I'd beg for a  pair to replace them.
The fact I carried upon me the means to buy a dozen pairs of the finest boots wasn't going to deter me. The gold sovereigns I'd hidden inside the specially-made pockets of my apron had taken to much work and hardship for me to acquire and I wasn't going to waste them on brand new boots. 
The carefully made paper flowers which had seemed so light to carry at the beginning of the day, now seemed to be made from lead even though there was only half of what I'd started out left. My aching arms served as a reminder that, before I could head for home, I had the rest to sell.
Walking slowly up the next driveway on my guard knowing in being their I'd become  dog bait for who felt that they could  justifiable allow them to attack me just for walking towards their doors. The front door opens and I hold my breath not knowing what reception I'd receive am in luck this time I sense straight away the misguided pity this gorger has for the poor dirty Gypsy that stands before her. I leave two dozen roses lighter, and to her benefit she was left with renewed hope in the future. At last the cardboard box is empty. It's taken so much longer to sell my flowers today, how I hate these school holidays, six weeks of hell with little chivvies chasing me, calling out "dirty Gypo", spitting and even throwing stones. Why must I be abused by these so called, well brought up, educated children. Their parents watch and hide behind net curtains, I won't care but some of them live in conditions I wouldn't let my dog live in.
The first lesson we learn as children is respect. Respect for their parents, elders and their animals simply put respect for life. The next lessons has got to be survival  skills. To instill in them pride so no matter  what they don't allow themselves to be put down. Our children could not survive the lions den called school, that we are forced to push them into and where the biggest predators can be teachers themselves without pride.
Romany dress is seen by many as over elaborate and garish, not suitable things to wear. Don't they, as educated people, see it is used by us to instill the pride needed into our children. Pride being our only weapon against the racism we encounter every day.
Amazingly once in awhile you come across a teacher who sees past the heavy jewellery and brightly coloured clothes to the child who wants to learn.
I myself was given this chance by a wonderful teacher who taught me how to read and opened my mind to the world of books. Sadily for me the ability to read was a two-edged sword, thou it promised to open my mind to other worlds and give the  access to the same careers as you gorgers. In doing so it set me apart from my Romany community being among the first with this ability.
Thankfully this is changing as more and more Romany families realise that their means of earning a living are no longer sustainable that their children need to be educated today. My people's biggest asset has always been their ability to adapt, even more so when we're given the opportunity.