I am Chicago. Big city, bitter winds, and cold nights . . .
I am African American. But somewhere deep inside you'll find a Creole soul . . .
I am quiet. But I often hear a loud voice inside screaming to come out . . .
I am tall. But I try to hide myself in a crowd as if I were short . . .
I am light skin with scars all over. You can only tell if the sun is shining on me . . .
I am something wonderful. Something great. Something special . . .
I am greens on Thanksgiving. I am soulfood on Sunday night . . .
I am relaxed hair and fake nails. Everything I say is real.