“That baby is so white,” a stranger said aloud at the grocery store, alarmed at the sight of a dark Southeast Asian man carrying a pale baby girl. It was 1998, potentially 1999. I wish I had my own recollection of that day, but the “white baby” was me.
Four years ago, I had assumed that my parents were complete animal enthusiasts. They came home every night after long shifts at our restaurant seemingly eager to turn on Animal Planet. My mom would call me over to watch, giggling at the frenzied yet astute organization of meerkat manors.
Following the Black Lives Matter protests and demonstrations of the past few weeks, my African American studies professor gave students the platform to have a discussion in class about how the racial tension on campus has been affecting our lives.