What My Christian High School Taught Me About Being a Black Girl
…ld back tears. I nervously adjusted my dress and went back to my table. I knew I had breasts. He made me aware of them. He made me hate them, and he made me ashamed. When this teacher approached me that night, I thought I might get in trouble for violating the dress code. But I realized my costume wasn’t the problem. I was. My mother wanted me and my three siblings to have a safe, Christ-centered education. I received neither. What I received inst…
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