I will call her Mrs. M., because that was her name.
I had always been something of a teacher’s pet, for reason of superior intelligence and polite behaviour—or so I thought. My teachers always seemed to like me; and I trusted them. Thus I was unsurprised when one day, when I was ten years old, Mrs. M. took me aside after class for a little talk. Such had happened oftentimes, for to discuss my schoolwork or extracurricular interests, or just to chat.
This time, though, my schoolteacher’s message for me was quite unexpected.
Mrs. M. told me that she thought it was wonderful that I was mixed-race. In a manner at once both didactic and morally encouraging, she told me that in the future, all the races would dissolve and meld together. She said that then, all the world would just be „chocolate-coloured“.
Those last quoted words instantly were indelibly etched into my memory. So was the look on her face—the look in her eyes, as she said the words „chocolate-coloured“. Her eyes shone with the single brightest display of ecstatic religious fervour which I had yet seen at such a young age.
I repeat: I was ten years old.