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Our bedtime routine that night started off like so many others, harried but mostly sweet. After making our way through brushing teeth and getting into pajamas, my daughter and I lay down on her bedroom floor to sing songs, the final step before crawling into bed.
When I tried to curl up next to my 4-year-old, though, I sensed her hesitation. She wiggled her little body away from mine each time I inched closer. “Do you not want mommy close to you, sweetie?” I asked, assuming she was initiating a game to extend our nighttime ritual. Her light-brown eyes locked in on me as she brushed her honey-colored locks aside with her hand.
In a casual on-the-edge-of-sleep voice she cooed, “Your skin is dark. I don’t want you to touch me.”
My brown Indigenous Latina body stiffened; I labored to breathe, outraged, and confused. She rendered me speechless.
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