Mr. Martin pulled back the curtain. But my real transformation began at Donlon. It makes perfect sense now. Donlon was a whole new ecosystem where I could hone my new superpower. In fact, it was in one of my very first classes there—a required sociology class about race and ethnicity—that I learned something profound: I am a victim of systemic oppression. Or, I guess I should say, I was. Now I’m in some liminal space. Existing in some sort of reverse perjury. My immutable characteristics and “lived experience” no longer count for much. Never did I see that coming.
