I never knew I was black until I came to Miami. I had spent most of my childhood in Haiti, in a community that was already made for me and people like me. Though I understood there were social classes that dictated my place in society, I was comfortable knowing where I belonged. But when…

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The following is excerpted from Twelve Unending Summers: Memoir of an Immigrant Child: Years ago, when I was doing my residency in Chicago, I was making my way through the hospital cafeteria when a tall, slender, white attending physician approached. He looked me up and down, almost as though in resignation. “Where in Africa are you…

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The following is excerpted from Twelve Unending Summers: Memoir of an Immigrant Child: I woke from a deep sleep in a frenzied panic, for a moment uncertain where I was. Cooking utensils flew across the cabin. Waves crashed over the deck and beat against the glass panel between me and the violent winds outdoors, and I…

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