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I have told my story of discrimination quite a few times recently.
It’s a story that used to give me some reassurance. It made me believe that despite being born into a middle-class, white, American family, I was not a racist. I was convinced I had never learned overt racism from my immediate family.
It’s a simple story: my first kiss was with a beautiful African American boy. After the kiss, I was bullied and beat up daily in 7th grade because of the color of my skin. I thought this meant that anyone could experience systemic racism. I thought that I understood how it felt.
I’ve been so wrong.
When my parents found out what was happening, the remedy was swift and appropriate. I now recognize that it is highly unlikely it would have been taken so seriously had I been any other race.
This reality weighs heavily on my heart now.
Watch an anti-racism hour with Jane Elliott talking with Waylon Lewis of Elephant here.
Support Black-owned yoga Studios: here