Near Glasgow in the early 1950s we had a superstition about avoiding the cracks on the pavement (not at all PC) -- step on a crack and you'll marry a black man. (Goodness knows where this came from as our neighbours were all white families!)

My mother's siblings had emigrated to Africa in 1948, to Northern Rhodesia and Southern Rhodesia (as was) and to South Africa, and we were used to letters and information from those places as well as post-cards; and my mother told me that I saw some black men near the fountain in Kelvingrove Park, just beside the University of Glasgow, around 1950 and said, "Look, there are Africans!" -- seemingly they looked round and smiled before my mother's attempts to shoosh me could work…

We also had a firm promotion on eating up your crusts to achieve curly hair and eating carrots to sharpen your eyesight.