How It Feels To Go 10 Months Without Experiencing a Racial Microaggression
How a trip to the post office ended a writer’s streak
“The lady ahead of me was nearly my white carbon copy. Both of us were in our mid-thirties and dressed in black, poofy coats and Sperry boots to shield us from the Wisconsin winter. Her blond hair was pulled back in an untidy bun, like mine. She even had the same-sized priority mail boxes.
The difference between us? I’m Brown, she was white. The postal worker was an older, white gentleman in his 50s. A part of me prayed that I wouldn’t notice any significant difference in how he interacted with us. Another part of me thought, “Let the social experiment begin.” — Shanna Loga
Read Loga’s story in its entirety below.