The Light Breaks Through

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Growing up black in America comes with a healthy dose of fear.

Looking back I don’t know exactly at what age the veil of innocence was lifted, and I became aware that I was different from other people around me. The most vivid memory was when I was in the Third Grade.

We were playing this paper fortune telling game. In the game, you would pick a series of numbers and then letters. Once that was complete, the paper fortune-teller would reveal your true love. What the heck, I was game. Let fate decide who my heart was swooning after. It landed on a young lady named Cindy. She was quite a looker. Fate had done a pretty decent job. Cindy was a very sweet little blonde cutie. So I asked Cindy to be my girl, and she agreed. Fate had picked correctly. I was on cloud nine. I could…

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