When checking “white,” I am diminished.

Adelia Dozier
Atlanta, GA

Every time I have to check my race as “white” or “Caucasian” my stomach turns and I feel diminished. I search all boxes to see if there is a better representative word. I am more than “white” or Caucasian. I am a composite of those whose lives I have shared. Born in Hawaii, growing up in Japan, traveling widely, and settling finally in Georgia, I am a composite of all who have been a part of my life. My skin does not define me or any other person I know.