A Quote by Amanda de Cadenet

Despite the gender stereotypes in the '80s, my race-car-driving dad taught me that I could do whatever my brother could. — © Amanda de Cadenet
Despite the gender stereotypes in the '80s, my race-car-driving dad taught me that I could do whatever my brother could.
The race car is harder to drive. If there was an in-car camera that could have watched me saw on that wheel for 500 laps, there wasn't one time I could relax.
Despite the obstacles of race and class, I was always taught that I could accomplish anything I set my mind to. African-American writers, for me, were a beacon, a guiding force.
Oh yes, my best birthday gift was when my dad gifted me my first car in college. It was a Maruti Swift. I thought that was the coolest thing ever. It was so much fun, as I could completely show it off to my friends that I have my own car now and not my dad's car.
Driving a race car isn't too far a cry from driving any other sports car, but driving one through Africa in the middle of the night offers a wide scree of new sensations.
When I'm outside the car, I'm just kind of relaxed, hanging out. People tell me I could be more confident outside the car, but when I get in the race car, I don't feel like anybody can beat me.
My dad was a physician. As a kid, I remember driving around with him on weekends so he could do his rounds at the hospital and talk to patients. We'd spend time in the car talking about what was going on with them, their stories.
I could do whatever I wanted as a girl, whatever my brother did. I could play against the boys and achieve whatever they did.
Why can't we have racism that's ignorant but nice? You could have stereotypes that are positive about race. You could say, "Those Chinese people, they can fly!" "You know about the Puerto Ricans? They're made of candy!"
My dad gave my brother and I a camera to film our football games when we were 10 years old so we could see how we could get better. Then one day, we decided to pick up the camera and film whatever we were doing.
When I heard about the Windrush issue, I thought, 'That could be my mum... it could be my dad... it could be my uncle... it could be me.'
My dad and I are very different people. For example, he's been stabbed; I'm afraid of bugs. He's a mechanic; I once had to exchange a "broken" rental car because I didn't realize I was driving around with the parking brake on. I could keep going, but you get it.
My dad has actually really influenced me musically. I have a weird love for '80s and '90s music. A lot of people are like, 'Are you serious? It's so lame.' But my dad always plays that in the car whenever we're together.
My mother taught me what it is to have a sense of humour; my dad, who was a headmaster, everything you need to know about hard work. My dad is the most decent man you could come across.
I could have grabbed his shirt collar. I could have pulled him close to me, so close he could feel my breath on his skin, and I could have said to him, "This is just a crisis. A flash! A single match struck against the implacable darkness of time! You are the one who taught me to never give up. You taught me that new possibilities emerge for those who are prepared, for those who are ready. You have to believe!
The '80s was all about this idea that women could have it all. You could have a career, and you could have a husband, and you could have children.
Dressing in an androgynous way, mixing up the masculine and feminine, blurring those boundaries - I'm cool with that. No one should ever be limited by stereotypes of gender, just as no one should ever be limited by stereotypes of race.
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