the white kids i grew up around in newjersey didn't think of me as white and the black kids i grew upng any manner of different skin tones and hair textures under the umbrella of blackness, so my sense of self was rather uncomplicated until the age of about 30, when i had moved to paris, married a blonde haired, blue—eyed white frenchwoman — who resembled my mother in her physical characteristics, actually, in terms of blonde hair and blue eyes — and i realised that if we were to have children, that they very well may not physically present as black. thomas, i'm going to stop you because this is such a fascinating story and i want to go through piece by piece. so if i take you back and rewind until you're a kid growing up in newjersey, i believe, you say that you could identify with the black kids around you in the neighbourhood but what you missed out in that story is what your parents actually told you, because you have your black father, your white mother — what do they tell you you were as you were growing up, or what are they sort of encourage you to think? sure. so, you know, my