The ever-changing n-word

I was 10 when he called me a nigger. I didn’t know exactly what it meant, but I knew it was bad, because it didn’t make me feel good. I told the black PE teacher who did nothing but scold me for hitting that boy who called me the n-word. I didn’t hit him, because…

How the light bulb really came on

On a recent night as Elijah and Miranda settled into their beds, I sat on the couch next to Nick, placing my head on his shoulder as is my custom. I spend very little time watching TV – approximately one hour per week to view one particular history program. When I sit next to him each night…