It didn't just happen.
There wasn't a point in my life where I fell in the ghetto, no I was born in the ghetto. You couldn't tell though, by the way most people treat me you'd think I was garbage.
"Garbage among garbage," one of my teachers had called me, I was seven at the time and even then I knew what it meant. At a young age I realized I was different, in my own house I was different.
My brother was half Mexican but he was dark-enough that he passed for full, and knowing fluent Spanish definitely helped.
No I was the white child people sneered at, white and black did. It was like I was being punished because I was white by colors and I was being punished for hanging out with colors by whites. It was a never ending racist circle I desperately wanted out of.
