YES, I AM ALBINO

July 6

I could barely get the words out, but today I told Elizabeth how I felt that my mother hated me because I was albino. I could barely say that word. “I hate it! I hate me! Whenever we were out together, people would always comment. They would say that I looked like a white rabbit. Children and my siblings would always call me Casper the Ghost. Adults would make ignorant comments like ‘Albinos see better in the dark, just like owls.’ People would often say, ‘She’s not albino, she’s Sabina.’ There is no such thing. I was never told that I had visual challenges until I got to junior high school, and one of my teachers said I was a ‘light worker’ in gym because I was visually limited. When someone spoke about a bird in a tree, I just thought I was really stupid because I couldn’t see any bird. I didn’t know what a bird looked like.

“I grew up in East New York in Brooklyn with mostly African Americans and Hispanics. The children were really bothered by my coloring. I remember one day during my teenage years, my sister and a girl (whom I thought was my friend) told me, ‘I’m ashamed to walk with you; everyone stares because you’re too white.’ I still feel this shame now. People sometimes said things like, ‘You really need some sun,’ ‘Can’t you get a tan?’ or ‘My legs look awful; they’re as white as yours.’ I felt such humiliation, such self-hatred. Summers were painful. We didn’t know about sunscreen or maybe it wasn’t invented yet. I used to burn so badly that I had blisters all over my arms. I couldn’t sleep. It hurt so much to lie down.”

I watched Elizabeth’s face. She seemed pained and angry, and I could feel her compassion reaching out to me.

“Elizabeth, one day in second grade, my siblings and I came home with our school photos. My mother and other family members were looking at the pictures, and they were commenting on who looked pretty and who looked ugly. My sister was looking at a picture of me. My mother said, ‘Let me see the picture.’ As she was holding it, she agreed with my sister, ‘Yes, Lucy is ugly.’ Her opinion was the only one that really mattered, and I took it as God’s truth.