![]() ![]() People are sometimes asked, “When did you become aware of your race?” This was not that moment for me, though around this time, I certainly realized that my race marked me as a thief. My aunt was being held by the mall police for shoplifting. “I swear she didn’t steal anything,” she said, crying, her head in her hands. ![]() When we arrived, my cousin was sitting on the edge of the pavement by the parking lot, waiting for us. We were on our way to one of the tax-free outlet malls in Delaware, but not to shop. “Don’t come back!” Not long after, I recall being inside a stuffy car with my grandmother. Just when I had settled on Famous Amos, I felt a hard push, then heard the words “Get out! Get out!” We were stealing, the shop owner said. I remember the outing vividly-even the brands of chocolate-chip cookies I was torn between buying. W hen I was 7 years old, I went with my friends to a nearby corner store after school. ![]()
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