The Movement – F RACISM

I remember it was a beautiful summer afternoon in the burbs of Carriage Run, New Castle, DE. My adult neighbors on my street are all working on their lawns, tinkering with their cars, and the sound of kids playing in the street is the soundtrack in the background. I’m too young to reach the bars on the lawnmower. I know this because my dad is cutting the grass instead of me, so I’m going to guess that I’m around 8 or 9 years old.

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