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My parents raised me to not ever look at race or color, so it doesn't have a big part in my self-identity.

The older I grow the more I see the influence of my family on my life. I didn't always see it. It was up to our parents to see that we had our education in a town that hadn't yet realized what racial prejudice was but actually knew and practiced it on occasion.

I was one of the only people of color at my grade school and also my high school. It's weird recollecting on my childhood, I think, because my brothers are all white. We all share the same father but different mothers. I guess I kind of associated white, but I was occasionally reminded in a really negative way that I wasn't.

My family brought me up to be very respectful of people.

Growing up, my parents treated my brother and me with absolute equality.

It is truly not fun to be the family that sticks out in an all-white community. On the other side, I have five brothers and sisters; we all look exactly the same, and we're very, very tight. The lessons about race were not pleasant, but there are things that I loved about my childhood.

When I was a kid, my parents never let me use race as an excuse. They'd say, 'When you walk into a room and it's all white, those kids have to work to stand out, not you.'

My brother and I had a really privileged relationship with my parents... They treated us like adults.

My parents taught me never to judge others based on whom they love, what color their skin is, or their religion.

My mother inspired me to treat others as I would want to be treated regardless of age, race or financial status.