I Didn't Really Understand Racism Because I

I Read About Writers Who Have Routines. They Write At Certain Times Of The Day. I Can't Do That. I Am Always Writing-but In My Head.

Race As A Subject Only Comes About Because Of What I Look Like. If I Say Something Truthfully, People Say "oh, She's So Angry." If I Write About A Married Person Who Lives In Vermont, It Becomes "oh, She's Autobiographical."

I Would Pretend When I Was A Child That I Was Charlotte Brontë, Because I'd Read Jane Eyre When I Was Ten And, Although I Didn't Understand It, I Loved The Idea That This Woman Had Written A Book. I Wanted To Be Her.

I Didn't Think Of Myself As An Outsider Because Of My Race Because... Where I Grew Up I Was The Same Race As Almost Everyone Else... It Is True That I Noticed Things That No One Else Seemed To Notice. And I Think Only People Who Are Outsiders Do This.

That Is How I Came To Think That Heavy And Hard Was The Beginning Of Living, Real Living; And Though I Might Not End Up With A Mark On My Cheek, I Had No Doubt That I Would End Up With A Mark Somewhere.