If you've been reading along for a while, this story may be familiar. It's the story of my daughter's first encounter with prejudice and the ways in which it affected her.

I wrote this in June 2011:

My daughter is a dancer. She loves to sing, she loves to act--but above all these--she loves to dance. She has been dancing almost every minute of her life. She dances to the bus stop in the morning. She dances in hallways and on the playground. She turns flips and cartwheels from the bus to our do...
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