When I moved to the U.S. in my late teens, I desperately wanted to change my accent. I wanted to fit in. I didn't like my accent despite people telling me "I love your accent" several times. They often follow the compliment with "where are you originally from?". That's the question I didn't like answering. I would have to tell them I am originally from Nigeria but I didn't want to. That was the problem and motherhood solved the problem.
I, without thinking grabbed a dark brown crayon and started coloring the girl's skin. Without skipping a beat, the little boy asked me why I would use that ugly brown color because my real skin was so nice and white. I didn't know if I wanted to cry or hug him more in that moment.