I was born and raised in a rural part of Kansas, and my parents were the only white people I knew.
They moved to the state from Ohio when I was 4, after my family moved from Wisconsin.
My family lived in the town of Fitchburg, which had a population of just under 3,000.
Fitchsburg is the state capital and the state’s largest city, with a population roughly the same as New York City.
The city is so big, Fitchberg, Kansas, is the biggest city in the state.
We’re a small town.
Fissures formed between my mother and father over whether or not to send my younger brother and me to a better school.
My dad felt strongly that it was not worth it, and he told us to go to a private school, which my mom refused to do.
He was the one who taught us the history of the South.
My mother and I moved to Fitchville and, over time, our parents and I started to realize that the South was not our home, and that the North was not where we were going to be raised.
We started to question things.
I began to think that the American dream is really about moving to a place that will be better for you, and if you can’t do that, then I guess you don’t have a home.
And then my mom started to tell me about a group of black women who lived in Fitchvillians white neighborhood and decided to take up residence there.
She got my brother and I to visit her house one night.
We were just kids.
It was the first time we had ever been in the neighborhood and we were living on the street, which we never saw.
The only thing we saw was a white man standing by the porch, watching us.
It made me feel uncomfortable.
When we were in Fissisters house, we asked to come to the dining room and she asked me to sit down on the couch, so we could see what was going on.
And I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just kind of stood there, staring at him.
She then said, “I don’t like it when you look at me like that.”
We asked her, “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on in the world?
I want to know what’s happening.”
I said, ‘I don´t want to talk about it.’
She said, “‘We need you to be a little more honest with yourself, because I can’t talk to you about anything.’
And she said, `I can’t let you do that.'”
She said she would not let me go to the school she was in.
My mom, my brother, and I decided that we had to stay in Fiskville and we had no choice but to stay there.
And the next thing I know, we’re in the middle of the civil rights movement in Fesssville, Kansas.
I was 13 years old, and the civil-rights movement was really starting to become a big thing.
I remember my mom, who was sitting across from me, saying to me, “The only way I can get to school is to come and visit with my family.”
I didn´t understand what she was talking about, but she knew that my mother was telling me to come visit her.
I said no, and she said that it would be better if we all did it.
So I went to Fisksville.
It wasn’t the biggest school in town, but I went.
And that was when I got to know some of the people there.
They weren’t the same people that I had seen in the public schools, because they weren’t in a big community.
They were in the working-class suburbs.
So it was an experience that I was very grateful for, and a big part of what got me interested in the civil right movement was because I got the sense that it had something to do with black people and the people of color in America.
And it made me realize that I could not be a white person if I was not part of the American family.
And this was the beginning of my career as an organizer, working with groups of people of different races and classes.
In that time, I had the opportunity to work with the NAACP, the NAACP Legal Defense Fund, and other civil-right groups to push the Republican Party toward racial reconciliation.
At the time, the Democratic Party was still in its embryonic stages and was in the process of becoming more inclusive.
I worked with the National Association of Black Journalists, which is the nation´s largest independent black news organization.
And we did a series of stories about how white people who wanted to be white in America were not being accepted as a part of their communities, that they were being marginalized.
We also had a series about how African Americans were being abused by the police and how there were black people who were victims of domestic violence.
And these stories were