I wasn't adopted. He ping-ponged in and out of my life, but I knew my father. Antonio Apolinario, the smooth, well-dressed, dark-skinned Colombian man, often compared to the actor Don Cheadle. I was aware that my skin wasn't as snow white as Mami's or as chocolate as Papi's, but somewhere within yellow and tan hues. Mami's side of the family always blamed Papi for my "wild" curly hair. I heard from surrounding adults that the religion we practiced, Santería, was the faith of los negros, Black people. I knew all these things, but for some reason. I had no idea I was Black...
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