It was daylight.
I was alone on a dirt road that stretched as far as I could see.
There were no houses…no trees…
I glided along the road.
I couldn’t see my hands, or anything that would identify me as me.
“Who am I?” I wondered.
What did I look like?
What colour was I?
I didn’t know.
I tried guessing—I thought I was probably a deep brown.
But I wasn’t sure.
All I knew was that whatever I looked like,
I was me.
I dreamed that twenty-five years ago.
I had recently been introduced to the concept of Unity in Diversity, the understanding that although people were diverse, with different skin colours, different languages and ways of doing things, humanity was one.
The dream unseated my unconscious identity of myself as a woman with white skin. In the dream, I was just me. None of the cultural…
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