My grandparents on their first date.
You wouldn’t know that fifteen minutes before this photo was taken my grandfather was greeted at the front door with a shotgun and told to go back where he belonged.
You wouldn’t know from this photo that my well respected grandfather was the first black man to own a law firm in Bermuda. Or, that he was disbarred in his 60s after he spent time in prison for a crime he didn’t do.
You couldn’t possibly understand how strong my grandmothers love was for this man. She put up with other peoples ignorance, judgment and hate to be with the person she loved.
You couldn’t know that my grandparents were happily married for 47 years and together for 53 years before my grandfather passed away. You have no way of knowing that I used to listen to them sing love songs together from the back set, when they thought I was a sleep.
You couldn’t have any possible idea who my family is or where we come from. So, I understand why you might be confused when I say that I’m a person of color, if you’re only looking at my photo.
I know where I come from. I know who my family is. I know who I am.
My skin color isn’t my story.