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I grew up all over the states as a military brat but moving here was an eye opening experience. For the first time in my life I understood what it meant to be the minority. It's having kids scream the 'n' word at you while hanging out of their car after a pep rally. It's having people lock their cars and clutch their purse tighter when you walk past with your dad. It's having to change your entire personality to feel accepted with your peers. Have you ever had another person tell you, 'You aren't like the rest of your people. You seem so educated and kind.' As if insinuating my PEOPLE aren't doctors and lawyers just like everyone else.

This community thickened my skin and numbed my heart. Seeing so many people in support of our cause makes me feel less alone, but the amount of people against basic human rights reminds me the fight is not over, and I won't rest until it is. I heard this weekend, 'Learning only happens in discomfort,' so if our signs and protest make you uncomfortable, please consider you might need to take the time to learn your own heart. Because I matter just like you do.

As a person who has lived many different places, I can say that racism is EVERYWHERE. While living in Germany, there were times when people would get out of the pool when my family arrived because we were “dirty.” Or when in kindergarten, a little boy wouldn’t play with me because my skin looked like “poop.” We were FIVE YEARS OLD. This shows just how young people can be trained to not like others because of the color of their skin. Although I can recall lots of racist experiences like this, nothing can compare to the ones I’ve had in Niceville. In middle school I would be taunted or called the “n” word in the back of the bus while others laughed.

Sometimes I would get off and walk to my mom’s job. I would tell myself that I was angry, when really I was ashamed of how I looked. What’s funny though is that this town is predominantly Christian. So when the people that I go to church with treat me as if I’m not human, it makes me wonder. As I get closer to graduating, I feel that it’s selfish for me not to speak up. What good does it do to be quiet and leave these problems for the next generation of black students? With that being said, I’m not going to be quiet anymore. Niceville needs change and we need it NOW.

Growing up mixed is weird. I’m a military kid and grew up with so many different diverse people. I never knew who I fit in with or what group I felt closest too. People would tell me “Well I don’t see you as black” and it’s almost like I took that as a compliment and wore it high above my head especially in high school. When I moved to Niceville I knew I didn’t look like the blonde hair and blue eyed girls.

When I walked into classrooms and saw another black kid my confidence would go up because I wasn’t the only brown one, when I heard a group of white kids listening to rap I smiled thinking “because they listen to rap and appreciate black culture they have to love black people right?” WRONG ! I heard boys shout the n- word profusely in the hallway, I have been told that “you’re pretty for a black girl” I’ve been told by a boy “I would never date someone darker than me.” And those words HURT! The truth is that everyday being mixed is hard, some of us feel like we don’t belong in a certain race group.

I began educating myself and found out that one of the Jim Crow laws passed in the early 20th century was to acknowledge the racial equality of mixed people. The law generally stated that if a person had even one ancestor of black ancestry - ONE DROP OF BLACK BLOOD- they were considered black. My ancestors fought for freedom and I am doing the same. I am proud to say that I LOVE BEING BLACK because I AM! At the end of the day we are all human, and everyone should be treated like one. Love your neighbor. love the skin that they’re in. love them. it’s that simple.

Growing up I always knew who I was as a person...I am smart, kind, funny, lover of God, and I’m also Black and proud!! My first experience of knowing I was different than others was when I was at my Christian School yes my CHRISTIAN SCHOOL and I opened my text book and found an intense drawing of me being hung on a cross being burned by the KKK. At the time I didn’t think it was a big deal until my dad (who is white) told me this was a big problem...and I realized wow I’m treated differently because of my skin tone. That didn’t stop me from being who I am though I was still going to be that crazy girl everyone knows and loves.

Then I moved to Crestview and got a job...recently with all the propaganda and riots and such I’ve had to be careful. A few days ago while I was doing my job I overheard a customer say “I can’t believe they have a “n” working here.” Did that hurt YES YES IT DID, again I know who I am and I shouldn’t be treated differently because God made us to love each other as you would love yourself.