An Adult Sweet Sixteen

Honestly, I’m just happy my outfit aged chicly. I was fifteen, attending a sweet sixteen, for someone I’ve known since seven. Her mom rented out the entirety of Madame X in Soho. I was wasted upon arrival, I was wasted upon exiting the premises. They sure did serve us courtesy of yellow dresses mom. It’s so funny, I look at these pictures and see ethnicity. Others just see my lone brown face. Showing people childhood photos their commentary typically run along the lines of, there’s a lot of white people. I’m grateful for their commentary, once upon a time I too lived in a bubble, one I’m happy burst. Now I can help bring equity and equality having left a cosseted facade. I wasn’t on yayo yet, having attended my caliber of middle school (all of us in the photo are East Side Middle School alumni), I wanted to keep my purity just a bit longer. Correction, I wasn’t on it that night…at least I waited til high school, okay. All I remember is the taxi ride down there. Judge people by their experiences, not your stupidity, prejudice and racism. I always ask people about their lives having grown up with diversity. Do you?