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Cross-over

When I was a little girl, I became very disturbed after seeing several programs on television where the white man told the blackman that if he didn't like something, that he should go back to Africa. I made up my mind then that when I grew-up I would go back to Africa if I didn't like what was happening. Twenty-six years ago I got mad and purchased a one-way ticket. The white clerk that sold me the ticket asked me did I know anyone overthere and I said in an angry tone. "I won't know anyone until I get there!" Well before the time of my flight, I got robbed, such a strange coincidence, that the only money I had left was the ticket that I had to cash for the refund. For some odd reason I have only been financially able to survive.

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