My heart sank when I spotted them. And suddenly the small gift shop felt even smaller and tight as if all of the air has been sucked out of it when I inwardly gasped. I remained cool though and, in Swedish, asked my Swede to take a picture of the Gollywogs while I continued my I’m just looking lap around the store.
Maybe it was my imagination but it felt like I was invisible, at least no one wanted to let me pass easily as I slinked around the shoppers looking at rows and rows of British beach pier souvenir junk. I was the only black person in the store. Just me and the box of Gollywogs. I wondered if they were invisible too to did people come in looking to buy a Gollywog when they visit the seaside.
When we got outside I remarked, that was some racists sh*t (or something to that effect). My Swede asked why I didn’t say anything to the store owners. I replied, no, I’ll blog about it. This is why my non-profit is needed. We need a directory for black women across Europe so no one ever feels alone.
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