The Darkest Child

by Delores Phillips

“I expect you to come together as a race,” Hambone answered. “I expect you to stop staring at the ground every time you speak to a white man that ain’t a drop better than you. I expect you to be the men you were born to be, and to demand your God-given right to be human.”

I transformed timidity and humiliation into emotional numbness—my fortification.

Glancing at the mirror once more, I thought I looked nice—real nice. My warped finger was not on the hand that would reach for my diploma, but on the hand that would shake Mr.Hewitt’s.The scars on my back were hidden beneath a lovely, new dress, and the brand on my leg was barely discernible through nylon stockings.