Los Angeles, CA.
People only identify me as black. And that doesn’t make sense to me. Even when I was little, and we would fill out forms for tests, I would ask my teacher what I was supposed to do. The papers always said you can only choose one, but I’m two. And when forced, I always had to pick black. Even people who know I’m biracial still only see me as black. And no one ever sees me as white. Not that I would want them to; I’m very proud of what I am. But both sides are equally represented in heritage. But not in my identity.