I was around seven or eight years old when my mother’s best friend at the time came over to the house for a visit from North Carolina. She embraced my mom lifting her up in the air and gave me a big warm hug and a kiss on each cheek. It was at that time when Rene (my mother’s friend) told me that I was lighter than the color of healthy urine. At the time, I wasn’t sure what she meant but that wasn’t the first or last reference to my complexion from her that weekend. It was, however, the most disturbing of her insulting commentary on my skin tone.