There seems to be an unwritten rule, hurtful and at odds with the realities of American culture. It says you aren’t supposed to wonder whether as a Black person, a Black woman, you really might be inferior—not quite bright enough, not quite quick enough to do the things you want to do. Though, of course, you do wonder. You’re supposed to know you’re as good as anyone. And if you don’t know, you aren’t supposed to admit it. If anyone near you admits it, you’re supposed to reassure them quickly so they’ll shut up. That sort of talk is embarrassing. Act tough and confident and don’t talk about your doubts. If you never deal with them, you may never get rid of them, but no matter. Fake everyone out. Even yourself.
— Bloodchild and Other Stories, Octavia Butler