Excerpt: When my parents permanently moved me to the United States, they purposely did not warn me that I would be humiliated by humans in beige-toned suits who were oppressed by skin pigments.⁣⁣ At nine years old, I was used to being called a dog, a monkey and other gentle creatures by my then grade-school classmates at my pricey, hyper-evangelical college prep school. ⁣⁣As an adult and an American national, I know what it feels like to be called a n-gger; to be refused service at a bakery stationed in the Deep South; to be profiled at my local Whole Foods store; to be escorted out of a Chanel boutique on the ritzy island of Palm Beach; and I know what it’s like to constantly be mistaken for a server or a retail clerk whether I’m working out at a fancy fitness club, or shopping at a clothing store...

 

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