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After a moment of thought, your mother speaks.
“Her race!” She says through tears. “Keep her beautiful mind and personality intact!”
Kurt hushes her. “Shhhh. I shall do that. But first...”
He entrances your mother briefly, saying that she will remember her old life but be affected by changes to. He lets her out of trance once he’s finished.
“Alright. It’s time.”
Turning back to you, Kurt begins to swing the pendulum again.
“Valerie...you are Black.”
You raise an eyebrow. “No...I’m n-n-n-not b-black...” you stutter. That’s just not true. Your family was white and you had fair skin and blonde hair. That’s who you are.
Your mother’s head begins to hurt, but she knows better than to interfere.
“You’re right,” says Kurt. “You are half Black.”
“I’m half...black?” You ask, Kurt’s new statement a little easier to swallow. You start feeling very confused as your skin begins to slowly darken. You weren’t all white...but what else were you? When you try to picture yourself or remember your ethnicity, it’s blank.
“Yes. Your mother’s side is black, and your father’s side is white. You’re half black.”
“I’m...half black...” you say again, your skin darkening more and your hair beginning to lose its blondeness. You think of your mom, but instead of those golden locks and fair skin you see a beautiful, curvy Black woman. Your mom was the epitome of Black beauty, and one of the best Black models (really models, period) in the country. Your father talked at length about how gorgeous she was, and how you were shaping up to be as good a model as she was. As these thoughts race through your mind and replace your old ones, your skin finally settles on a nice, moderate brown color as your hair is now brunette. Your face is also just a bit different, and you became a lot more slender.
“You are proud of your racial identity.”
“I’m proud of my racial i-identity,” you say without too much effort, your lipstick now darker, your dress more revealing, and your hair now in a massive, frizzy style. You WERE proud of you who were and always embraced both sides of you. You feel all warm inside because you know who you are.
This whole time, your mother has been silent.
“And your name is Kayla.”
“K-Kayla? I’m Valerie...” you say back. You loved your name. Sure, it was bland and boring, but it was your name!
“No. You’re a Kayla.”
“I’m...I’m Va...Val...” you say, struggling to complete your name...that you now forgot. All that you can remember being called now is...
“Kayla? Say your name please. Your name is Kayla.”
“My name is Kayla...” you say at last, finally at ease.
“You adore your name.”
“I...adore...my name...” you say. You loved your name. It’s a name that feels regal, almost, and it’s very, very sexy in your opinion.
Kurt, finished, stops swinging but keeps you in trance. He turns to your mother...
“Her race!” She says through tears. “Keep her beautiful mind and personality intact!”
Kurt hushes her. “Shhhh. I shall do that. But first...”
He entrances your mother briefly, saying that she will remember her old life but be affected by changes to. He lets her out of trance once he’s finished.
“Alright. It’s time.”
Turning back to you, Kurt begins to swing the pendulum again.
“Valerie...you are Black.”
You raise an eyebrow. “No...I’m n-n-n-not b-black...” you stutter. That’s just not true. Your family was white and you had fair skin and blonde hair. That’s who you are.
Your mother’s head begins to hurt, but she knows better than to interfere.
“You’re right,” says Kurt. “You are half Black.”
“I’m half...black?” You ask, Kurt’s new statement a little easier to swallow. You start feeling very confused as your skin begins to slowly darken. You weren’t all white...but what else were you? When you try to picture yourself or remember your ethnicity, it’s blank.
“Yes. Your mother’s side is black, and your father’s side is white. You’re half black.”
“I’m...half black...” you say again, your skin darkening more and your hair beginning to lose its blondeness. You think of your mom, but instead of those golden locks and fair skin you see a beautiful, curvy Black woman. Your mom was the epitome of Black beauty, and one of the best Black models (really models, period) in the country. Your father talked at length about how gorgeous she was, and how you were shaping up to be as good a model as she was. As these thoughts race through your mind and replace your old ones, your skin finally settles on a nice, moderate brown color as your hair is now brunette. Your face is also just a bit different, and you became a lot more slender.
“You are proud of your racial identity.”
“I’m proud of my racial i-identity,” you say without too much effort, your lipstick now darker, your dress more revealing, and your hair now in a massive, frizzy style. You WERE proud of you who were and always embraced both sides of you. You feel all warm inside because you know who you are.
This whole time, your mother has been silent.
“And your name is Kayla.”
“K-Kayla? I’m Valerie...” you say back. You loved your name. Sure, it was bland and boring, but it was your name!
“No. You’re a Kayla.”
“I’m...I’m Va...Val...” you say, struggling to complete your name...that you now forgot. All that you can remember being called now is...
“Kayla? Say your name please. Your name is Kayla.”
“My name is Kayla...” you say at last, finally at ease.
“You adore your name.”
“I...adore...my name...” you say. You loved your name. It’s a name that feels regal, almost, and it’s very, very sexy in your opinion.
Kurt, finished, stops swinging but keeps you in trance. He turns to your mother...
What does he see?
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