2016
ELLE Magazine
Growing Up With Miss Jamacia
When my sister and I were left alone, we put on my mother's dresses, slipped on her high-heel shoes, powdered our faces, and added headscarves to pretend we had long hair. In the mirror we posed—our bony arms jutting out from the elbows above our narrow hips, lips puckered, lashes fluttering like the wings of the flying cockroaches in the cupboards.
When my sister and I were left alone, we put on my mother's dresses, slipped on her high-heel shoes, powdered our faces, and added headscarves to pretend we had long hair. In the mirror we posed—our bony arms jutting out from the elbows above our narrow hips, lips puckered, lashes fluttering like the wings of the flying cockroaches in the cupboards.
