Everything has its opposite, everything holds within it its opposite. That's very hard to accept! - Jamaica Kincaid

How soft is the blackness as it falls. It falls in silence and yet it is deafening, for no other sound except the blackness falling can be heard. The blackness falls like soot from a lamp with an untrimmed wick. The blackness is visible and yet it is invisible, for I see that I cannot see it. The blackness fills up a small room, a large field, an island, my own being. The blackness cannot bring me joy but often I am made glad in it.”

...isn't it odd that the only language I have in which to speak of this crime is the language of the criminal who committed the crime?

I didn’t really understand racism because I grew up in an all-black society, so I didn’t see how it was possible not to like me!