Essence Magazine:
By Ebony Flake ·Updated April 25, 2024
I knew I was Black but tied no more significance to that fact than I would a freckle, a mole, or right and left-handedness. My “Black” was merely a circumstantial genetic effect. As a kid, it didn’t occur to me that it should somehow limit potential or signal inferiority.
My northern California upbringing was a paragon of diversity. The differences of complexion, hair texture, and accent
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