Kristina Ogilvie,
Arlington, VA.
It just struck me, I guess: on paper (i.e. a resume) I am for all intents and purposes a white girl. My name couldn’t be less ethnic, and I’ve had the privilege of getting an amazing education and having experiences that my father (Afro-Panamanian) could only have dreamed of. But I could never pass for white, physically. And for all the different ethnicities and nationalities that I’ve tried to fit in with, I’ve never identified as white. I’ve been accused of being an Oreo, trying to be white, but actually thinking of myself as such never really occurred to me. I don’t know if that had to do with growing up in the military, where race takes a backseat to other social hierarchies, or growing up overseas, where I was American first, and x second, but as much as I benefit from certain privileges the same as white folks, I never wanted to be white, and it never occurred to me to really try.
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