My parents hoped I would get lighter, because, as you can see from [family] pictures, we lived in a white world -- went to a white church, lived in a white neighborhood. My mother used to scrub me twice a day -- hop­ing that my skin would lighten up. She would make up a bath mixture in the tub using up a quart of milk, two squeezed lemons, and a teaspoon of liquid bleach. When she was done, she'd rub my knees and elbows with the halves of the lemon, all the while saying to me, "Now, if you stay off your knees, they'll lighten up."

My parents hoped I would get lighter, because, as you can see from [family] pictures, we lived in a white world -- went to a white church, lived in a white neighborhood. My mother used to scrub me twice a day -- hop­ing that my skin would lighten up. She would make up a bath mixture in the tub using up a quart of milk, two squeezed lemons, and a teaspoon of liquid bleach. When she was done, she'd rub my knees and elbows with the halves of the lemon, all the while saying to me, "Now, if you stay off your knees, they'll lighten up."