“I have things, sure. Do you know, they keep sending me wigs? Long and straight. One of them was pink.” She touched her hair, which she usually wore naturally. “I wore a black one for a little bit. I keep dropping hints for things—a bonnet, conditioner that works for my hair, darker concealer. But then I kept getting gifted these clothes—stuff I’d never wear. When I put the stuff on, I don’t look like myself.” She looked at me steadily. “I look like a Black version of you.” “I’m sorry, Jacintha. I’m sorry they did that.” “There wasn’t even a Black resident here for the first three years. I
...more
