There were eight,
now there’s two Aunties.
Gone before, I really got to know them.
I needed them so…

Cheated of my birthright.
My freckled face their face.
Their fair skin my skin.
My soft hair their hair.

I missed out on,
a cultural identity,
a loving large family,
knowing my father.

My mother, father,
and maternal grands
all decided I didn’t
need to know.

If it were not for my 
great-grandmother, Muh
I would know nothing.
She lobbied for my knowing.

She heard the neighborhood
children teasing and taunting me
for my pale skin and silky hair.
She told me I was Creole. 

Muh told my grandmother to 
introduce me to my father.
Told her about the teasing.
She argued against it but relented.

She grabbed me from play one day,
Someone wants to meet you!
A man stood smiling with blue eyes
and skin paler than mine, I knew.

Do you know who this is?
Looking around for my tormentors,
Knowing, I shook my head no.
His blue eyes went sad.

She looks like my sisters.
Webster’s said Creole: French & Spanish.
France and Spain are in Europe.
Europeans are white, my teasers were right!