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Until I got to college I had never heard the term black or white.
Because I was not listening possibly, or more so that I never thought about it.
Some people did not have freckles, I was envious of that.
Some had curly hair. I was envious of that too.
Some had height. I still dream of height; I think I always will.
But skin color being a thing? This was a concept I had never thought of.

I grew up with a white father whose best friend was Quig Kelley, a black man.
We never thought of Quig as black; we thought of Quig as Quig.
Quig had a loud laugh, and he and my dad liked to laugh a lot!
If you would have told me Quig was a black man I would have laughed.
Skin color was not a thing in my world.
I was raised knowing that we are all God’s children.
We are all humans.

I did know that I was different than others. I felt paisley in a plaid world.
I felt that I must have been adopted; I kept waiting to be told this was true.
Because I did not fit in with anybody I knew.
I did not have the same religion as my parents.
I instantly knew what I instantly knew; and spirituality was my path.
I believed in the ba and the ka without question when I studied Old Egyptian religion.
I believed that we can communicate with the afterworld 
because I always have.
Skin color being a big thing?
 I throw my head back and laugh like Quig and Daddy.

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