let's talk equality

this is about equality. it's about gender. it's about race. it's about class. it's about the environment. it's about oppression, respect, revolution, and freedom. it's about strength, independence, free speech, and refusing to accept the status quo. oh, and, you know, some of it is just shit i like. email me at letstalkequality@gmail.com

http://letstalkequality.tumblr.com/ask


you got questions? i (might) have answers.  


crossingborders: Growing up in Jackson, MS, I gravitated toward white people. It felt natural, I suppose, because I looked like them. While my cousins got black baby dolls for Christmas, mine were always peaches and cream. Once, during playtime in elementary school, one of the black girls told me I couldn’t join her group. My doll, she said, was the wrong color. Later, I understood what she meant was that I was the wrong color. Like my doll, I was blonde and green-eyed-the only one in a mass of brown skin. I am African-American, born with a genetic abnormality called albinism, meaning I’ve got little to no pigment in my skin. Albinism is a recessive trait, so both parents must carry the gene in order to conceive a child with it. It’s more common than you’d think-one in 17,000 children is born with albinism. My mom was only 16 when I was born. She did her best to protect me, but I knew early on that I was different. Everywhere we went-the mall, the grocery store-people stared at me. You could see the question on their faces: “Is she really yours?” - Kenosha Robinson

crossingborders:

Growing up in Jackson, MS, I gravitated toward white people. It felt natural, I suppose, because I looked like them. While my cousins got black baby dolls for Christmas, mine were always peaches and cream. Once, during playtime in elementary school, one of the black girls told me I couldn’t join her group. My doll, she said, was the wrong color.

Later, I understood what she meant was that I was the wrong color. Like my doll, I was blonde and green-eyed-the only one in a mass of brown skin. I am African-American, born with a genetic abnormality called albinism, meaning I’ve got little to no pigment in my skin. Albinism is a recessive trait, so both parents must carry the gene in order to conceive a child with it. It’s more common than you’d think-one in 17,000 children is born with albinism.

My mom was only 16 when I was born. She did her best to protect me, but I knew early on that I was different. Everywhere we went-the mall, the grocery store-people stared at me. You could see the question on their faces: “Is she really yours?” - Kenosha Robinson

Notes