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Please note: This is a companion version & not the original book. Book Preview: 

#1 I grew up believing that there were only two types of black people: the black elite, and those who weren’t. I recall summertime visits from my maternal great-grandmother, a well-educated, light-complexioned, and straight-haired black southern woman who discouraged me and my brother from associating with darker-skinned children or from standing or playing in the sunlight for long periods of time.

#2 I learned about the importance of class distinctions within my black world at a young age. As I moved quickly to the safety of the shade, I beckoned my brother to protect his complexion from the blackening sun.

#3 I knew that I didn’t fit in with the black elite, and that I would never have the right credentials to be a part of it. I knew that I had one foot inside and one foot outside of the group.

#4 The black elite have roots that can be traced back to when slavery began in this country. When the first Africans arrived on the shores of Jamestown, Virginia, in 1619, neither the white Dutch or Portuguese slave traders nor the white American plantation owners had any knowledge of or interest in the tribal and cultural differences between the Mandingo, Dahomean, Ashanti, Mbundu, Ewe, or Bantu blacks.

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