I expect Moses will be with me for a long time, urging me on toward improbable destinations with his wide-flung arms.
It’s awkward, to say the least, for a privileged white woman like me to even attempt to touch the subject of racism; yet we are sometimes the women who knows its effects most intimately. Many of us were raised by a black woman and realized the limits put on their love for us when our mothers told them to stop kissing us and to add “Miss” to our first names. For me, that strange change marked my entrance into adolescence.
I have special respect for teachers because I finally had to admit, a few years ago, that I can’t do it… at least not directly.