My family was one of the first black families to move into the neighborhood and there was a heavy price to pay for this. They threw paint into our swimming pool, sent letters of hate to our mailbox, shouted “Niggers go home!” as they passed in their cars. Constant harassment. Nevertheless, neither my sisters nor I thought much about it. It all came with the territory. And being the daughters of confident, academically gifted immigrant doctors from Nigeria, we were taught that all ailments—physical and otherwise—could be worked with, if not cured, taught to always walk with our heads up and to
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