Ubuntu

I remember being indifferent in the third grade when it was getting closer to February and the thrills of the holidays were on their last linger. In my family I heard jokes about being black that I didn’t quite understand and I was made aware that I was somehow special because I had a lighter complexion and curly hair.   The hue of my cousins that I loved to play with varied from mocha brown to dark ebony to high yellow, but we fortunately didn’t assign value or a hierarchy to it like the adults did. I would never understand...

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