The color of sunshine in the morning. Of petals poking out of the grass. Of crudely drawn stars in the middle of class. The shine of my teeth when I laugh. The color of joy. The color of warnings. This color defined me in the hallways of my middle school. Pointing, laughing, misidentifying me as a different Asian in the sea of Vegas whites. Yellow skin, yellow skin, do I look like I have jaundice to you? I became a banana to fit in. Go away yellow, you’re not a part of me! But it was and always will be. And as I grew older I embraced yellow to be me. Until one day my uncle told me: “girl, you ain’t yellow, our people are brown!”

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