(Not An) Origin Story

As a grad student in the United States, my mother accidentally fell into a vat of white dude while trying to do social work. As a result, I was born with the power to make total strangers harass me with impertinent questions, and professors, employers, and blind dates dismiss my bizarre notions of the world out of hand.

Just like this, only with text.
Just like this, only without text.

I struggled to understand and control my power for decades. Then, one day, I was caught up in the backwash of Level 5 hypnotist Octavia Butler‘s world-altering mesmer blast. I transformed instantly into a science fiction writer. Now, I spend my days undercover as a community arts administrator, and my nights fighting evil with my powers of cognitive dissonance and code-switching. My costume is still under construction, but it will be be made out of polymerized red silk, sound like a plucked koto when in motion, and feature a spit-guard.


I recently joined the league of superheroes known as Nerds of Color, or NOC. We’re still learning to work as a team, but we’ve already proven our potency by defending the Earth from attack by supervillain teams such as Hollywood and The Trolls. Their leaders remain at large, but they are on notice: if we can’t protect the Earth, you can be damn well sure we’ll diversify it.

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