When presented with incomplete information, we leap to conclusions.
We are always presented with incomplete information.
Family is everything. Family is culture, nurture, nature, determinism, education, everything.
And we strike our own way.
I saw Baccaria in the hall yesterday and offered her one of my Starbusts. Yes, she did want one and she asked without preamble, "Ms. Fey, do you want to be Black?"
We talk like that. We've known each other for the four years since she was a freshman. She is Melroy's cousin and she was selling pins with a photo of Child's gentle face before his funeral in December.
"Well, um, when I was in college, my idol was that singer, she was Black and wore a gardenia in her hair, Billie Holiday! And I wanted to be her...but my friends..."
Baccaria laughed, as she does, not merrily, but a laugh nonetheless.
"Oh, Ms. Fey." And she sighed, as she does.
I don't blame her. I don't understand her fully, but I know a bit about her. A tiny tiny bit. A surface scratch.
"Ms. Fey, you couldn't be Black. You're not strong enough." She was kind enough to soften the truism with "Ms. Fey, you're my favorite," but we both knew she was right.
