First time I was called, “Sistah

Lissette Miller
Washington, DC

I’m an Afro-Latina living in DC, and it wasn’t until I moved here that I felt moved to fully embrace my African roots. I grew up in Miami, where beneath the layers of Spanish-speaking Latino one-ness lies a denial of blackness so fully engrained, it goes unnoticed or is never discussed. It’s too easy to hide under the “Hispanic” umbrella, without ever having to explain why my hair is so nappy and why I kept chemically straightening it (“everyone does it”). But now, living in Chocolate City, where smiles and compliments have replaced looks of disapproval at my now-natural hair, where I give and receive “the Black nod” to others on the streets, and where I have the pleasure of being called “sistah” on a regular basis, I feel whole. I’m bilingual, I’m Latina, I’m black, I’m me.


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