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Sisters
- Wesleyan University Press
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203 mArilyn nelson Sisters The school bus drove us home from high school, where we got off in the Negro neighborhood and several times a week there was a fight: one sister called another sister “hoe,” pulled out black handfuls of her straightened hair, clawed at her face and hands, and ripped her shirt. I walked home. I believed in sisterhood. I still do, after thirty years, although I’ll never understand why several white sisters walked on me as if I was dirt. We were all sisters, feminists, I thought, forgetting what those catfights should have taught. I was too well brought-up, too middle class to call a heifer out, and whup her ass. ...