Trigger Warning "Look at how she walks. She is going to be hot as popcorn." I was 7 years old. The scorn of the words met the scorn in the eyes of female family members as they gathered, watching me cavort in the company of my same- aged girl cousins, gathered in a game of hide and go seek. The looks of the older girls and women who watched confirmed that while I didn't know what being “hot as popcorn” meant, I knew it wasn't good. I was confused about what it was about my bony and brown body that signaled this prophesy, but it was only one of many ways and only one of many times I was convinced, in my single digit years, that I was bad. That there was something inherent to my skin, to my walk, to my very existence that offended adults.
The Shame of Speed
Trigger Warning "Look at how she walks. She is going to be hot as popcorn." I was 7 years old. The scorn of the words met the scorn in the eyes of female family members as they gathered, watching me cavort in the company of my same- aged girl cousins, gathered in a game of hide and go seek. The looks of the older girls and women who watched confirmed that while I didn't know what being “hot as popcorn” meant, I knew it wasn't good. I was confused about what it was about my bony and brown body that signaled this prophesy, but it was only one of many ways and only one of many times I was convinced, in my single digit years, that I was bad. That there was something inherent to my skin, to my walk, to my very existence that offended adults.
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