Humanity: Raw & Unfiltered
Fifth Grade. 10 years old. I chose Harriet Tubman. My mom made my dress measured and cut to size. I was Harriet Tubman, but I was unlike her, a skinny shy kid, the tallest fifth-grader, slouching in my chair, a white girl trying to hide in the crowd. My dress Read more
You’re brown, I’d say, but some say black, or African-American. I don’t know what to say. When Girl drew a picture in class, and brought it home, and showed you: curly hair, purple skin, you, depicted. When you said, “What color is my skin?” She said, “You black.” You said, Read more
My uncle has been sending me letters. He’s been telling me about his time in Vietnam. How, even though it was just a tiny percentage of his life, it is a time he never forgets. He says he’s a tormented artist. He says he’s tried to write about it. He’s Read more