A letter to my 10 year old self
The year is 2008. You loved ballet with all your heart and soul. You will miss your grandmother deeply, as she recently passed. This year is an election year. You go to dance class, all the grown ups talk about politics. You are old enough to understand somewhat. John McCain is your hero. You were so excited to learn more about the presidential election. You got to witness the election for the first time you could remember. You grew up thinking, by the time I get to vote, there will be a female President. You loved being an American. Flash forward to 2016. You are eighteen. Being cat-called on your birthday is not out of the ordinary. You are hanging out with one of your Black friends, someone asks, "Why are you hanging out with him, he's Black and you are White." The world is not friendly as it was when you were a child. Maybe it never was. You want to vote for the first time, but disagree with both options. It's November, a few weeks after the election. A guy on y...