I was doing so well

When I was a little girl my parents thought I was the brightest kid they had ever seen. They had to think that, of course, since I was their only child at the time.

They thought I had learned how to read when I was 2 and a half but they were mistaken. I had just memorized one of my favorite books and knew what to say along with each picture.

But then I did learn how to read by the time I was 3, so they were happy.

When I was 4 they gave me this little Minnie Mouse workbook from Toy City. I wish I knew where it was now. It was one of those "all about me" books where you filled out your favorite colors, the names of your friends and family, your favorite foods, that kind of thing.

I remember one entry specifically since my mom had to correct me on it. It has stuck in my mind ever since. Minnie Mouse asked me to describe myself and I wrote: "I have short black hair. I have black eyes. I am white."

Mom had a hard time explaining that we weren't white. The only argument I had in my defense was we were not as dark as "black" people so that made us white. I had never heard of the term "brown" when I was young. I couldn't just say I have brown skin, no no, I was white.

So now here I am, 20 years since I wrote that scandalous description of myself. Do I still consider myself white? Of course not, though I'm certain I do "act white" a whole lot. Us first generation Filipino-Canadians around here have a term for ourselves: Potatoes. We're brown on the outside, but white on the inside.

I know my thinking has always been a little screwy, but perhaps my write-up back in the day was more mental rather than physical. Wow, what a deep little girl. :)