I want to be among 'my people,' she said...until she was

 Robert Arvay - American Thinker  

 . . ."Ann's mother asked, in exasperation, why would you wish to go to such a place? Ann's response, probably conditioned by her friendship with Shakeena, was — and I remember the mildly sarcastic way her mother said it — "I want to be among my people."

" 'But," Felicia told Ann, "you are among your people.  We are your people."  Our friends and neighbors are your people.  It was all to no avail.

"With great trepidation, and after meeting Shakeena's middle-class, working parents, Thomas and Felicia finally relented, albeit with several conditions, to which Ann resentfully agreed.  That afternoon, Thomas drove Ann and Shakeena to Shakeena's cousins' house, which was an old, single-family dwelling, possibly government-owned.  Thomas did not like the neighborhood, and although he was as black as the residents on the street, he felt very much out of place, even reminiscent of his dangerous encounter on his earlier road trip.

"Stressing to Ann that she must keep her cell phone handy at all times, Thomas returned home, expecting to come back late the following morning to retrieve Ann.

"He did not have to wait that long. At 2 A.M., he was awakened by a frantic call from Ann.  "Daddy, you have to come get me.  They're shooting outside!"

"Immediately, and with a father's fearlessly protective instinct for his daughter, Thomas was swiftly on his way.  Arriving, he found himself in the near vicinity of a gunfight between black gangs.  Running into the house without hesitation, he grabbed his grateful Ann, got her into the car, and thankfully made good their escape.

"Felicia told us that Ann never again mentioned wishing to "be among my people.' ". . .

Diversity, Division, Disintegration -Peter J. Sandys

. . ."You have not moved but feel like you are no longer at home. You have not left your country, but it feels like your country has left you. You feel like a foreigner and outsider in your home—internally banished. For a long time, you believed you were the only one who sees, hears, thinks, and fears that way; you were afraid to say it and ashamed of your impressions and thoughts." . . .