Growing up as a mixed-race child in 80s London, the narrative that black was bad seeped into the pores of my brown skin. The racism I experienced was rarely overt, that is not the British way, but it was a regular and insistent knocking against my young identity.

Though the fervor of the Black Lives Matter movement and the media coverage surrounding it seems to have died down, there is still ample progress that we need to make if we are to ever live up to our namesake: The United States of America.

I like to think that we have evolved or are evolving toward a world in which you come as you are, and who you are is enough. A world in which no one needs to ask you about part of your ethnic origin in order to accept your humanity as a whole.

Despite interracial relationships becoming increasingly popular, to see a black woman with a white man was not the norm. Going in public places, particularly ones with older people, both black and white, was like living under a microscope.