In one of my earliest memories, I’m at a restaurant with my parents talking excitedly about something, only to be sharply shushed. “Listen!” my parents say to me. “Do you hear anyone else talking as loudly as you are?”It was the first time I learned that I was expected to behave like everyone else, and that I was falling short at that.
That same lesson would show up throughout my childhood; I was in constant trouble at home for doing things that felt out of my control — things I would only realize many years later were symptoms of undiagnosed ADHD.
It was the same situation in school, except the color of my skin made me an even larger target.At an ultra-white French-immersion school in a primarily white city in Canada, I was already different enough.
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