"Being one of the few black kids in my school was all I'd ever known before college. Having my hair teasingly prodded during recess or being called "oreo" felt normal. From 7 a.m. until 4 p.m., I learned to excuse small indignities, and I used humor as a defense mechanism. When I got home, I could finally vent to the few other people who understood. My mother was very clear: "Don't let anyone touch your hair and you better not let them call you outside of your name.""
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment