That’s what one of my friends of color told me when I was in middle school. I’ve dwelled upon those words for the past six years. I’m in 12th grade now, and I’m still carrying that baggage. That flippant comment awoke me from an oblivious state. My skin was indeed brown, due to the fact that my father has skin the color of a dark, bold coffee and my mother has freckled skin the shade of milk. Resulting is me, an ambiguously ethnic latte. Too dark to look like my mother’s child, but too light to resemble my father.
For most of my childhood, I grew up in predominantly White areas. I didn’t associate with my colored-ness. I never acknowledged it until I got older.
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I am a black girl and…
Black girls in the Pittsburgh region share an identity and, for many, it means they are exposed to systemic inequities. But each girl’s identity rises above the common denominator. Their struggles and aspirations are unique. This is who they are. This is our region through the eyes of black girls.
By PublicSource | March 2017—Present