by Veronica Maria Brown-Comegys

When I was 10 years-old, a white man parked his truck in the alley behind our apartment building. He grabbed my four-year-old neighbor, Cynthia, who was in the backyard. In the vehicle, he demanded that the child perform oral sex. Her screams alerted the adults. The man shoved Cynthia from the vehicle and fled.

by Jessica S. Samuel

I was only a high school student when I first realized the impact of the white gaze. A high-achieving pupil I, along with similarly-talented peers, quickly became the idols of white attention. We were anomalies in the eyes of these people who could only see us as far as they could see the next island. Their understanding of our capacity for success was as narrow as the one-third of the island unoccupied by the U.S. National Park. “Small-time” island kids, we quickly became the objects of white attention. In fact, were it not for these condominium-owning, island-trotting, land-thieving white benefactors it would have been largely impossible for me to attend the only (private) high school on island. The quality education afforded to me was a dream come true thanks to my elusive and yet seemingly-omniscient donors. Like clockwork, I was responsible for constantly demonstrating my sincerest gratitude for their generosity by way of “Thank You” cards. The time would come, at least once a semester, when all the good little brown and poor kids, had to make it our business to offer praise and appreciation to the good ol’ white folks. After all, it was important that they see a return on their financial investments.