It's official – my sister is black. It says so in the second paragraph of the autopsy report – “The body is that of a normally developed obese black female whose appearance is compatible with the recorded age of 41 years.” OK, the obese part we knew – but black? This finding was confirmed on her death certificate as well: there in black and white the word “Black” in the Race category. It's ironic that my sister achieved in death what had eluded her in life: an official, unambiguous racial identity.

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