Mr. Martin pulled back the curtain. But my real transformation began at Donlon. It makes perfect sense now. Donlon was a whole new ecosystem where I could hone my new superpower.
In fact, it was in one of my very first classes as a college student there—a mandatory sociology class about race and ethnicity—that I learned something profound: I am a victim of systemic oppression. Or, I guess I should say, I was. Now, I’m in some liminal space. Existing in some sort of reverse perjury. My immutable characteristics and “lived experience” no longer count for much. Never did I see that coming.
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