Red is my mother’s favorite color, and Red is the color of the aura she emits. Red is the blood my Native ancestors shed for me to simply exist. Red is the undertone of my mother’s brown skin, and Red is the secret she will never admit. But what is Red to me? Red is the intensity of my memories, and Red is my PTSD. Red is said to represent Bad, and if Bad are my memories, and my memories are a reflection of me, I am damned by that color Red who has left me so lonely.
Anthony B. Roose is a sophomore at Albion College; he is studying Sociology, History and Religion. He was born in Dearborn, Michigan, and he graduated from Annapolis High School in 2016. Much of his work reflects on heritage, generational trauma, loss, and forgiveness.