Erica

“I’m the same as them now, Pa. Look at me, look at my color.” “I don’t like it,” he grumbled. “Those that can’t see past a folk’s skin color have a hard difference in them. There’s a fire in that difference. And when they see you, they’ll still see a Blue. No city drug’s gonna change small minds, what they think about peculiarity. For them like-minded folks, there is no redemption for our kind. Stay put where you belong, Cussy.” Two young’uns raced past me, brushing my skirts. I recognized one of them as Winnie’s student. He stopped and turned back to me, waving a handful of sparklers. “Book Woman, looka here.” The boy raised the fireworks higher. “It’s July 3, and these are for me! I’m eight today, and Pa says all these fireworks are for”
― Kim Michele Richardson, The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek