I had learned to read and was perusing my baby book, where a foreign name popped up under Father. It was totally weird now that I think about it, because I learned to read very early (at 4), so I must have read it before (I was always way into my baby book for some reason…). I guess I kept thinking my mom had messed up the book, or perhaps I even fantasized that my stepfather had changed his name and was on the run from someone that would very much like to know where he was. It wasn't till I was 6 that I asked my bastard of a stepdad.
He sat me down and said something like, "Well, when your mother was young, she made a horrible mistake and had sex with another man. I married her so you could have a father".
I really could not make this shit up if I tried. I suppose they might have thought that I already knew (my stepdad's white) but until my lil brother was born very light skinned I didn't really think about it. I assume I didn't see “race” yet, but when I did I thought I was mixed race too (perhaps a shade too dark, lol)…friggin parents. there's really no excuse for them sometimes, is there! For the bad ones that is!
How To Die Learning To Live / Writing