I sat in a conference room surrounded by four white women ― Dr. Westwood-Court, Dr. Bleekman, Maddie, and Bella. Blue and green eyes watched me with measured expressions, all communicating concern. The pale faces seemed to be commanding me to get out . My emotions bounced like a tossed tennis ball, ricocheting from confusion to rage to helplessness. My inner voices, a vortex. My outer voice, silent. I had arrived at this place innocently enough, in pursuit of a better life — for myself and my