Emmanuela Moise
For most of my life, I have been surrounded by people of my type. Those whose skin was full of melanin. Those who had authoritarian parents, telling them what to do left and right without reasoning. Those who had a similar culture to mine. These are the type of people I been around. It was as if I ignore the rest of the world. Not caring about anybody else.
I loved going to middle school so much it was as if I would die if I missed a day. There were so many people I could relate to over there. They understood me a way that I thought no one else could. I thought with these types of people I was set.
Even though I adored the people I hang out with I knew that my education comes first. Being educated to the greatest was my main goal. So I applied to a selective public school. I knew it was right for me because it would give me so many opportunities, that I know would make my life easier in the future. At that moment I didn’t think about the people I would be surrounded by.
After getting accepted, I was just like an eager child, wondering who’s going to be there. Are they similar to me in a way? This attitude didn’t last long because then came the first day of school. I went into my first period and shocked. All I saw was pale or olive skin color. There were only three of us who had melanin in the class. ‘Why,’ I asked myself. Rumors would go around saying that black people don’t care about education or their future. They are only good on the “streets”. I was refused to believe that because I was a walking example of someone who cared.
Throughout the first day of school, I was moody and disappointed. I felt so out of place like I didn’t belong there. So for the next few weeks, I tried to relieve my ego by finding friends only in the same color, which I did end up meeting people to be friends with. Still, something didn’t feel right in me. I tried to find every logical reason as to why I feel weird.
I pushed myself to see what wrong because I wasn’t getting good vibes. After a while, I tried to think with my heart instead of with my brain. It was like my heart was verbally talking to me. This is what it told me.
“Emma, you’re being so ignorant. You force on one thing when there’s so much out there. You need to explore and see what’s out there because sometimes you might find what you’re looking for. Don’t ignore those around like trash.”
So later I went back to school with a different energy. I tried to focus topay more attention to people out of my color range. What I immediately noticed was that these people were the best people I could meet. They were so friendly and kind. This made me realize that I was the one stopping myself from being happy. I was stopping myself from seeing the whole world. I was stopping myself from meeting people.
Weeks went to months. Months went to years. And for years I still meet an become friends with people from different color and culture. The reality is that it’s not the color of skin that separates us. It’s whether or not we decide if it’s going to divide us. The truth is the color of our skin doesn’t define who we are. It’s our personality that truly matters.
