“I’m glad I’m tattooing you. I want to practise working on more Black people.”
This was one of the first things my white tattoo artist said to me before he began working on my skin. It should have been my sign to walk out of the shop, but I stayed. My face must have reflected the warning signals in my mind because he quickly followed up by telling me his girlfriend was Black. I wondered if he knew his girlfriend’s race did not bring me comfort.
