Dear Granny,
By the time you receive this letter I will be on a train traveling up North. I know that this all may seem sudden to you - I know I arrived just days ago - but you have to understand - please. When I arrived home that dark night...something just felt different, Granny. I know you felt it too because I saw the judgment in your eyes when you saw my dress, my hair, my shoes. And I will not lie to you - I know I am not the same girl I used to be. Walking through that town that day, though childhood memories flashed through my mind, I did not feel the same. But that look that you gave me? It really hurt me.
You see, life has handed me opportunities which neither you nor I thought would ever be possible. I never intended to lose myself in the process. But living up North - it is a new world up there - where no one knew me...I couldn’t not take advantage of my position. I have dreams, Grandma, and I have achieved them! And I was so happy - I missed you - but I was happy! Imagine that. The truth that no one likes to talk about - neither whites nor blacks - is that, at the end of the day, race (whatever that may be) is entirely mythical. When I walk into a store, I am treated like a white woman. When I look into the mirror, I look white. And yet, when I come back home, I am no longer white (though all our neighbors will stare and declare me “nearly white!”) When neither group accepts you, Granny...it hurts. Where do people like us belong in society?
Please tell me, because I have thought about this for a while - what was I supposed to do? I love you, Granny, but you have to understand me. It may look good to be a hero, but living in this world, you begin to learn that in order to succeed (and I mean succeed), the hero’s path is more often than not more trouble than it is worth.
Please forgive me. Write soon.
Pinky
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