Tweet 20 Rough-Hewn

I am five, white in a mostly white school. I take out my clunky, fat, foil-wrapped sandwich of hard brown German bread. Everyone else sits with their white bread tucked into tidy, thin plastic bags. I feel crude, ashamed. I don’t know I’m the daughter of an immigrant.

[20 of 30 in November, re-posted from today’s tweet @tryingmywings]

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