When I was younger my joke about coming out as mixed race when I was 4 and 3/4 seemed like it was a funny way to talk about the deeply painful reality that I was not ok for my family my tribe or my nation.

It was not until I was about 30 when my then brother in law told me that he was gay and that nobody in his family of 5 siblings and 2 parents knew for certain, it was the 1980's and the AIDS epedemic was taking hold across the first world and our isolation as individuals revealed itself. In some ways my brown skin forced me to confront prejudice and break the ice with fearful strangers whose releif when they realized I had basic manners and could speak English was palpable.

My life was rejected in the womb as evidenced by me being born a blue baby and when I turned brown the nurses and nuns changed their view of my value outside the womb.