Significance of Race
“Hey!” I scream out as my white neighbor passes by in his freshly waxed sports car. I can still see the scene playing in my head of him looking at me and throwing the middle finger while sticking out his tongue. The state of shock I stood there in as the pain showed all over my face, as he sped off laughing. I stand there in complete disbelief thinking of maybe what I could have done to make him react this way to me for just being friendly. Then my answer came to be maybe it is because I am black.
I grew up in a predominantly black neighborhood in Jackson, Mississippi where everyone was more like family than neighbors. Here I was not really exposed to the opposite race but knew that I was to use the same manners to them as I did towards my own people. The issue of race was never discussed around me in my home so I was always aware that all people are equal.
“We are moving today,” I heard my mother say as I awoke, “to a bigger house in a better neighborhood.” I was excited to move, but sad to leave the community I had grown so close to behind. As my mother unpacked our things into the house I sat outside in the driveway observing my new neighborhood and trying to see what kids lived close by that I could play with. After sitting here for a while it hit me that we were the only black family on the street. Days went by after my realization, and I started to witness that these people who did not look like me were not as embracing as the people...