There once was a little girl. Her name was LaShawnte. On national television, she told her mother that she thought her skin was ugly. “I don’t want to be dark,” she said.
I watched that footage several times. And each time I felt a deep sadness, one that lived somewhere way back when. I never told anyone that I hated being dark, but it wasn’t hard for me to understand why LaShawnte
Looking at LaShawnte was like looking in the mirror, except I only saw her; she didn’t see me. I wanted to…needed to reflect something else towards her. I needed her to see herself differently. I needed her to see herself in me and much as I saw myself in her. (more…)