Why I Won???t Give You Ten Tips to Manage Your Privilege

In the 1970s, growing up in New York was a special mix of rap before it was hip-hop, jumping double-dutch in the street, cookouts and block parties, afternoons at the Police Athletic League, St. Paschal’s Church on Sunday, and school days at P.S. 95. A child of immigrants, I lived in a multi-generational household filled with Jamaican culture, sweetened by my grandmother’s afternoon English tea, and alive with my grandfather’s stories. My mother was a fashion designer who graduated from the Fashion Institute of Technology and my father was a musician who played at the Apollo Theater in Harlem when he wasn’t entertaining around the world. Sometimes my parents were stressed because money was tight but I was oblivious because all I ever felt was loved.

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