Tag: racism

“I have great respect for the past. If you don’t know where you’ve come from, you don’t know where you’re going.”
— Maya Angelou

Every family has stories that shape who they are, and around Christmas a few years ago, I got to hear some of mine. My parents sat me down and shared pieces of our family history that left me in awe — stories of strength, courage, and quiet resilience that built the foundation I stand on today.

One of those stories was about my great-grandmother’s sister, who worked down South as a schoolteacher. She was light-skinned and could pass as white — something that came with complicated privileges during that time. Across from the school was a hat shop that allowed white customers to try on hats before buying them. Black customers, however, had to purchase any hat they touched. My great-grandmother’s sister would walk into that shop and try on as many hats as she pleased, knowing she could get away with it. It was a small, almost defiant act — one that spoke volumes about navigating an unjust world with quiet boldness.

Then there was my grandmother’s father — my great-great-grandfather. He was also light-skinned, with light eyes, and worked as a painter at a hotel. One day, he walked in with the Black maids, and his boss pulled him aside.
“Why did you walk in with the colored women?” the boss asked.
My great-great-grandfather simply replied, “Well, they play cards with my wife.”
The manager, shocked, said, “Your wife? You mean to tell me you’re colored!?”
“Yes, sir,” he said calmly.
The boss looked around and whispered, “Look, I like you. You’re good at your job. But don’t tell anyone you’re colored, or we’ll have to fire you.”

Hearing these stories, I felt an ache — pride mixed with sadness. These were people who carried themselves with grace and strength in the face of injustice. People who worked hard, protected their families, and found ways to keep their dignity intact in a world that didn’t always see it.

Some might say, “The past is the past — why bring it up?” But I think remembering is an act of love. It’s how we honor the struggle, the perseverance, and the humanity that got us here. Forgetting would mean erasing the very roots that keep us grounded.

If I could talk to them today, I’d tell them how proud I am — proud of the resilience that runs through our blood, proud of the lessons they left behind, proud to carry their spirit forward.

Resilience. That’s what created me.

“You may tell a tale that takes up residence in someone’s soul, becomes their blood and self and purpose… That is your role, your gift.”
— Erin Morgenstern