Category: Flashes Of Thought

On U.S. soil – February 14, 1979

Dear Diary, It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything.  I wish I had kept up with spilling my guts in this book.  A lot has happened.  I’m 21 today.  I’m married to a man named Jake and we’re living with his parents in Connecticut.  I just came to the States a week ago…
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May 5, 1974

Dear Diary, Hi.  I guess you figured out some things have changed.  I’m back to being me and I’m back to being happy.  A lot of bad stuff happened over the past few months.  Latoya and I had a big fight.  She started talking about my old friends and other white kids in the school,…
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January 14, 1974

Dear Waseme, I couldn’t wait to get home and write you.  I had a horrible day.  My brothers and sisters wanted to stage a protest to get Martin Luther King’s Birthday off of school.  They went to the principal and said the white kids get to celebrate their Presidents and that we should be allowed…
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January 7, 1974

Dear Waseme, I like the name I gave you.  It’s African.  I’m sorry I haven’t had time to write but I’ll tell you what’s been going on.  Everything about me has changed.  I have a new name.  Rawala.  It means, let them say what they want.  Cool, huh?  I’m learning all kinds of stuff about…
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October 12, 1973

Dear Diary, I got up early this morning so I could get ready.  My Afro is huge.  It’s so thick that the pick sticks in there with no problem.  This look is far out. When I got to school, I saw Melanie standing by the stairs.  I sneaked up behind her and tapped her on…
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October 11, 1973

Dear Diary Hi again.  I talked to Latoya today.  She was cool, but I don’t know if she likes me.  After school I went to the store and spent my allowance on black stuff.  I bought a huge pick that folds in half called a rake.  I also bought some new music.  Isaac Hayes, the…
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October 10, 1973

Dear Diary, I’m not really sure what I want to tell you.  It’s autumn, my favorite season, I just ate dinner and I have homework.  This is stupid isn’t it?  I bet you want to hear some other stuff.  Okay here goes.  My dad is black and my mom is white.  That makes me half-and-half. …
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October 8, 1973

I don’t know how to handle what’s going on in my head.  My friends don’t understand what’s happening either.  I know I’m different in some ways, but I think they like that about me. Being 15 with a black dad and a white mom in these times makes me kind of special.  At least I…
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It began in earnest with a 15 year old’s diary

I’m sure most of my friends won’t really remember this brief time in my life.  Some will and will look back with smiles and some laughter.  Some will say it never happened, because it was so brief and time does cloud childhood memories.  Some will remember who they are and pick themselves out of this…
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Wandering through a black and white world…

They smiled and said, “you have an Angela Davis fro” I smiled and said, “groovy, man.” After school I ran home and shouted, “Dad, who is Angela Davis?” “A rebel,” he responded. “Cool, I wanna be like her.” “Really?” “Yeah and I wanna learn more about my roots.” “Just be assured, child, everything I teach…
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