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.  Hey, my mom uses that stuff to cook.  That was stupid too.   Anyway, Curtis called me an Oreo cookie the other day.  I’m mad at him but it made me think.  All the black kids at school listen to soul music and have Afros and wear loud clothes.  They talk about Malcolm X and Martin Luther King, and the Black Panthers.  I don’t know much about that stuff, but maybe I should learn about it.  Maybe I need to be black.  I’m not sure what I have to do, but I’ll ask Latoya to help me and see what happens.

Talk to ya later.