African

I aspired to be white, to have the beautiful skin and to be seen as an angel because after all, there were no dark colors in heaven. From fourth to seventh grade I denied being African. I denied my mother because of her thick African accent. I denied my family for their darker skin tones. All except my older brother, letting kids believe he was my father, and I was his daughter. I thought maybe his light skinned complexion would cause kids to believe that maybe, just maybe not all Africans were dark and ugly.