morgan jerkins wandering in strange lands

They’d assume that my father was white because I burned in the sun, or they’d say whatever melanin I had would be lost in the winter. I was the lightest person in my church congregation and people would often make jokes about my skin to my mother. When I came into this world, almost a month early, my dad took one look at me and jokingly said, “That’s the milkman’s baby,” because I was so light. On paper, half of my lineage is unknown, although I’ve known my father my entire life. The details as to what happened are debatable, but nevertheless there was an omission. In fact, when I was conceived, their relationship had already run its course. My mother’s name is Sybil Yvonne Jerkins, but there was a blank spot where my father’s name should’ve been. I was born Morgan Simone Regis Jerkins the Simone and Regis were officially my middle names. My original birth certificate indicates that my story is half missing.

I felt like an outsider among my blood, a feeling that would stay with me until I was an adult. They were, from all appearances, the picture-perfect family. Later, I learned that my father not only had three other daughters, but a wife and a dog, as well. I didn’t have the words to express what I felt. I don’t remember saying anything in response. Instead, he pulled out his wallet and showed me photos of three girls before saying, “These are your sisters.” The oldest was eleven years my senior, the middle child was eight years my senior, and the last was just fifteen months my senior. He would regularly visit me at my mother’s home, bringing niceties along with his charisma and swagger. He pulled me to his side and said he had something to show me. I was seven years old when I learned that I wasn’t my father’s only daughter.

Morgan jerkins wandering in strange lands