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Weekly Contest #14
I remember getting off the plane and realizing I wasn’t in Ghana. I was somewhere else. Somewhere incredibly foreign to me. My father had lied to us and told us we were moving from our quaint town of Albany, Georgia, to Ghana. But instead we had arrived to a country not full of black faces, but full of brown faces. A sea of female faces covered in black from head to toe, and men with curly hair and dark features. I thought to myself, this couldn’t possibly be worse than the small southern town we’d come from that was still very much segregat...
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