People Think If You Describe Someone With

The Strange Thing About My Life Is That I Came To America At About The Time When Racial Attitudes Were Changing. This Was A Big Help To Me. Also, The People Who Were Most Cruel To Me When I First Came To America Were Black Americans. They Made Absolute Fun Of The Way I Talked, The Way I Dressed. I Couldn't Dance. The People Who Were Most Kind And Loving To Me Were White People. So What Can One Make Of That? Perhaps It Was A Coincidence That All The People Who Found Me Strange Were Black And All The People Who Didn't Were White.

I Was Given A Dictionary When I Was Seven, And I Read It Because I Had Nothing Else To Read. I Read It The Way You Read A Book.

In Isolation I Ruthlessly Plow The Deep Silences, Seeking My Opportunities Like A Miner Seeking Veins Of Treasures. In What Shallow Glimmering Space Shall I Find What Glimmering Glory?

I Come From The Small Island Of Antigua And I Always Wanted To Write; I Just Didn't Know That It Was Possible.

The People Who Invented Race, Who Grouped Us Together As "black," Were Inventing And Categorizing Their Ability To Do Something Vicious And Wrong.