Hello my name is Jacob Miller. I am 16 years old and I live in Chicago. I was born on March 19, 1940. I was born to a mother who was a nurse that took great care of her patients and a father who was a restaurant owner. Growing up with three other siblings, I was the youngest out of four. With a mother as a nurse and a father as a business owner, you can say that my siblings and I grew up with sort of a wealthy lifestyle. We did not have to worry about a monthly budget or anything that would have to cause us to scramble our money. Also, growing up I always got what I asked for. The envy of what my older siblings have received from my parents made me want more and more. Basically I was a spoiled little brat that got anything and would kiss up to mommy and daddy for it.
As each kid grows up they can always say that they were taught valuable lessons from their parents. And yes this is true, as a teenager I know I did a lot of redundant things that my parents where there gladly to teach me a lesson with a very long verbal lecture. I can’t say I did not get annoyed after listening to the same thing over and over but deep down I knew they were there having my best interest at heart. But there has always been one thing my parents were passionate about and that was we do not dare associate with the dark skinned folk. And my parents made that clear as a bright sunny day that we are much better and more deserving than them. If you asked my grandparents about a dark skinner they will think of a million things within one second on how we should never associate with them. And hearing that since the day I was able to comprehend words made me develop hate and disgust to the dark folk.
My parents being busy people most of the time with kids, work and personal work they always decided to hire extra help around the house. Ever since I was 10 my mom parents always had a cleaning lady come over and clean our house. For some odd reason my parents seemed to love her and always would praise her about the great work she had done. She would always be rewarded with a financial tip or some kind of leftovers from our restaurant. I liked her too because she was a very kind older lady who was carrying and devoted. But I don’t think that all the extra tips for her were necessary. All she just did was clean. But yet they treated her like an old family friend. One day my parents got the news that their beloved cleaning lady that she will be moving out of state closer to her kids. Immediately my mom put out and add with her number stating she needs a housekeeper. Soon after she got a call from woman that would like to come by and start working right away. The next day came and the new cleaner arrived on time. My mom quickly opened and then suddenly she slammed it. Later I was informed that it was an African American lady who came and my parents made it clear that no color was to enter the house because they steal.
As always I never thought of why colored people are “so bad” but I just went along with it. I figured since everyone had the same opinion about them it might have been true. Furthermore my parents were more adamant about us never associating with colored folk. They were so serious they made me switch to an all white school where not a single color was allowed. It was just like any other ordinary school except the separation was made clear and were taught to never associate. As always I never seemed or even wanted to question it, only my hate grew stronger just as anyone else's.
One day while eating dinner with my family, we watched the news and found out that one colored lady named Rosa Parks would not stand up and move to the back of the bus for a white man. Immediately I was infuriated with her behavior and I was extremely satisfied with the fact that she had been arrested for her deed. “Serves her right, the nerve of that woman” said my mom. After this incident I thought to myself that no colors will do what they want to, only what they will need to do to survive. I even thought to myself that they should be lucky to ride even on the same bus, because they deserve to be locked up somewhere else, far away from our civilized culture.
Later that week, me and a few of my friends went to hang out at the park down our block. While running around, laughing and talking we noticed a colored kid come and sit on the swing set. He seemed to be the same age as me and my friends. Immediately anger got over me and and I asked him “Hey colors the hell you doing”? He responded “Leave me alone”, with a hint of attitude. Me and my buddies not tolerating his attitude decided to grab him and I immediately swung and punched him in the nose. Than we let go and he began running away from us holding his nose and yelled out in a sorrowful voice “I just wanted to make friends”.
For some strange reason the night I punched the colored kid I began to think on how I would feel if I just wanted to fit in and wanted to make friends. I could not imagine the feeling of being lonely and unwanted. But I simply would brush the feeling off because I could not develop empathy for a colored folk.
As time went by, I kept thinking and feeling the same thing over and over again. Brushing my empathy under the carpet seemed like something I could not do anymore. I wish that I could have known his name, but did I dare to go up to him and apologize? Do I dare risk being caught socializing yet alone apologizing to a colored person?
I knew this would not be easy in anyway. Actually now that I think of it this is not easy nor a good idea. What are my parents going to say? What will everyone even say? They all will team up against me and for sure I will be treated the same way the black kid is. For sure without a doubt my parents will disown me. But I guess I am going to have to risk it, after all he is the same way I am who cares that he's darker what damn difference does it make. I can not believe empathy was taking control of me; especially taking control of being taught a "niggers ain't people"! With time I realized they are people and some are going to be twice the better person than any white snob I know.
To my luck I have seen the same kid walking on the street and I decided to go up to him. Immediately him seeing me he decided to run away, but I yelled out and told him to wait and surprisingly he stopped. Him looking at me scared and shocked I took out my hand in peace and told him “I am sorry”. Right away I could tell he did not want to believe me and was hesitant to shake my hand. But not giving up I kept my hand out and he finally shook it. Immediately I felt a sense of relief and I felt as if I had finally done something by myself that was accomplished the right way.
A few weeks later me and Trevon became good friends. Soon after my buddies found out I am friends with a dark person they stopped talking to me but in a funny way they decided to come crawling back. Even my parents who were the toughest to break soon decided that Trevon was just like us. And soon enough we had a group of four friends that had a very strong bond that would not let anything break it.
One valuable lesson I have learned is that judging a person based on their skin color does not show what type of person they are, only what kind of low self centered person you are. People are are the same no matter who they are and where they come from. They deserve the same amount of respect that you expect for yourself at anytime. We all have personal struggles and issues we deal with and at the end of the day we want friends to open up for help. If you do not respect and love others than it clearly shows you do not respect your own self.
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