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Growing up black
Growing up can often be quite painful. For me it was complicated by being black in a largely white community. Most of the time the combination of the two drove me to insecurity. I was a wallflower. I'd never exert myself or speak up or dare to be visible. Besides being gangly and suffering from most teen-age relationship problems, I felt people wouldn't judge me on the basis of me. They saw me first as black, which often put me in a painfully difficult position. Then they'd see me as a teen, which was bad enough by itself.
I finally made it through my teens, but I was still black, and the problems associated with it grew closer to me and more disturbing. No matter what I did or how I dressed or talked, people always categorized me as different—not different good, but different bad. I desperately wanted to be thought of as equal, and by now I wasn't quite sure that I was. It took a while to figure out that I was.
Lasting friendship: a taste of heaven
BARBARA JUERGENS FOX
"Some of my best friends are..."
THOMAS ALAN WALDMAN
Growing up black
NATHANIEL A. HANDY, JR.
Prayer: a parental responsibility
HELEN C. MOON
Church relationships and the new commandment
RICHARD A. MATHER
Out of the whirlpool
WILLIAM WELSH HOLLAND
More than physical healing
GRACE ARCHER DUNBAR
Be not afraid
I am of more me than you are
Geoffrey J. Barratt
Comfort for parents who think they've failed
Recently I attended a Wednesday evening testimony meeting...
For four or five years I had been suffering with sciatic rheumatism
Wellington A. Goodrich
I became acquainted with Christian Science in my childhood...
Silviane Rosi Müller Bonetto with contributions from Arlette Rosy Müller
Through the years that I have been a student of Christian Science...
Virginia L. Austin with contributions from Janet Rice