Young Black Girl To her father
Young Black Girl: Is that how it’s supposed to look?
Black Father: What?
Young Black Girl: Our clothes. That’s why we use starch. So they can look like his.
She points to a White man rigidly walking down Grand Ave., almost robotically, in his crisp white collared shirt.
We teach our children to assimilate early in life. I want my grandchildren to know self acceptance is a gift we give ourselves. Being comfortable in one’s skin is better than someone’s approval of you.
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