James Redmond teaches Ancient History at a college in central Connecticut. My folks were from Jamaica, my daddy black, my momma white. Daddy was a technician on a sugar burner on a plantation, an engineer except for the fact that he was “colored,” as they called him. But colored in Jamaica in those days didn’t carry much sting, although opportunity could be limited. It was more like calling a redhead “carrot-top.” People were unsure what to call me because of my mother. My complexion was medium. In 1962, when...