I really love color.
I notice it everywhere and in everything.
My family makes fun of me because I like to use colors with elusive-sounding names, like celadon . . .
ecru . . .
carmine.
Now, if you haven't noticed, I am black, thank you -- and when you grow up in a segregated city as I have, like Chicago, you're conditioned to believe that color and race can never be separate.
There's hardly a day that goes by that somebody is not reminding you of your color.
Racism is my city's vivid hue.
Now, we can all agree that race is a socially constructed phenomenon, but it's often hard to see it in our everyday existence.
Its pervasiveness is everywhere.
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