My Racist Childhood Memory of the Day:
I remember being about four years old. My neighbor, Michelle, was about 3-5 years older than me and for the longest time I thought she was Indian. She was tan, black hair, a girl, all the characteristics of your text-book Indian. One interaction between her and I stands out in my mind to this day twenty years later. We were standing on her porch and no idea how it happened, but we got into a debate on whether or not she was black or brown. I held true to my ground and was certain she was brown. She disagreed and said she was black. I even went as far as to compare her to a Crayon I had back home - one you’d find labeled under “brown”. Im not sure how it ended, but I don’t think I wavered. I was a persistent kid and hardly ever backed down. I’m going to assume I won the battle though, and she later went around telling everyone she was brown the rest of her life because she’s a racist.
