Palm Springs, Ca.
United States

I was told I was Colored at seven years old.

A white girl's mama told her so...and she explained to me,

"Now you see", as she held my  arm, "your skin is brown."

In comparison did she say, "I mean no harm but, my skin is white!"

And with all my might and all my sight, I did NOT see white.

Not the 'white' like the Crayola white. Now, Crayola had a 'flesh' color

in the box of 48.

So, I studied her arm once more, to see what I was looking for.

"Your skin ain't white...not the Crayola white, not Mama's cooking flour white,

Not the milkman's milk white, not Mrs. Lever's fence white and not my uncle's

white wall tires white!"

"You ain't white but, my skin is brown...so I guess I'm Colored."


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