I thought I was white until I was five. I just thought my parents were tanner and had cooler hair. Most of my classmates in kindergarten were white and I was around them, but I wasn't really conscious of race. My parents don't emphasize things like Kwanzaa and MLK day. I learned about black history eventually but it wasn't like my parents told me I had to, it was something I wanted. As I got older, I did get questions about my race but I have always thought of myself as a person first and everything else second. It's not that I didn't take into account my race, but it didn't define me and even as a five year old I kind of picked up on how arbitrary it all is and that you should be good on the inside so people won't care about the outside.