I gaze up at the wall of creepy photos, hundreds of white faces watching me. And in the odd photo, Black faces stare out, wearing blank expressions, their hair beaten into submission like mine. The Black faces aren’t always in the photos. That’s to be expected. Most good schools didn’t let people who looked like me in, and when they did, it wasn’t many of us. I can’t imagine what life would have been like for them, having protesters outside their schools every day, parents complaining about their existence there. Like they were these dangerous criminals, just because their skin was brown and
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