Racism

by Brenda Wilbee

The death of George Floyd a few days ago touches on a virulent problem I first encountered as a skinny, 12-year-old white girl immigrating to the United States. We moved to Ann Arbor, MI, 30 miles outside Detroit, MI, during the race riots and civil rights movement back in the mid-1960s. A budding writer, I cut my teeth on the craft by writing essays and articles, enraged and impassioned by all that I saw and heard and experienced.

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