It’s difficult to move to another state, another town, another school, especially for a teenager. As a 17-year-old, I was compelled to move—not just to another part of the country but to another family.
My life had changed two years earlier, when I became one of the Little Rock Nine, the teenagers who integrated all-white Central High School in Little Rock, Arkansas. When my teacher asked who would be interested in going to Central High, the pride of Little Rock, my hand shot up.
For as long as I could remember, I’d wanted to break free of the rules that defined—and confined—black people’s lives in the segregated South. It upset me to see my mother, a teacher working on her doctorate degree, kowtow to whites. It hurt to have to…