I was born in Atlanta, Georgia; the melting pot of the south. Although I’m american I never really got the typical american experience. I lived most of my life on one of the many islands of Turks and Caicos. It was one of the best choices I could have ever made. In Turks and Caicos, no one was ever focused on skin color. It was the very last thing on any of our minds. Life was just being enjoyed. It was only till I moved back to america did someone have a problem with me, with my skin. It was either I claimed being black or I claimed being white. There was no in-between. I couldn’t just be mixed, I couldn’t be half and half. And I racked my brain trying to understand why people insisted that I act a certain way when claiming either sides. But that’s what it was. It was like picking sides. The more and more I see both sides, the more I realize it’s a war. It’s been made into a war. The more time that passes, the war doesn’t die down, it doesn’t even get stronger, it becomes a silent war.