When I was in 1st grade, I came home excited to share a story about a girl in my classroom. I described the girl in detail — her shirt, her glasses, what her laugh sounds like. My parents weren’t sure which girl I meant. I never mentioned she was Black — the only Black kid in my class. Did I not notice? Or did I know I wasn’t supposed to notice?

I wonder now what else I “didn’t see”. For one, I didn’t see many Black people. I grew up in a highly segregated part of Texas. The only Black…

Alexis Tryon

Doer, Maker & Enthusiastic Eater. Founder at Extra Yarn & Artsicle.

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