Reflection Paper

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I first became aware that people were different racially at the age of seven years old, when my parents and grandparents would tell us how our ancestors and grandparents were treated by white people before I was born. They taught us about slavery and told us all the things black people would get in trouble for, such as drinking out of the white people water fountain which was not allowed. We would listen to the stories of how my great grandmother went to jail for beating a white police officer for putting his hands on her and calling her bad names. How my great grandmother’s youngest son father is believed to be a white man because of his mix hair texture and white looking skin color. At the age of eight years old I being a member of the …show more content…

Martin Luther King Jr. movies, seeing how the black people were mistreated during the civil rights movement; this made me really angry. I really hated the way Dr. King dedicated his life to fighting racial issues and injustices and was murdered because he was doing something positive for our black race. He also was a black minister with a wife and children; he was not prejudice and he wanted black and white people to come together. To hate and kill an awesome leader because of his was of black color was very …show more content…

I remember incidents when my best friend and neighbor at the time , Amanda Bloodsoe, who was a white little girl who lived on my street and in my second grade class, uncle and grandmother moved in with her and her father, out whole friendship changed. Amanda’s grandmother and uncle was prejudice. They really did not like with idea of Amanda and I playing together. I would walk to Amanda’s house and ask her to come out and play; she would just look out the window and tell me that she cannot play today. This happened several times. I could not comprehend why Amanda stopped playing with me and started sharing all our secrets. So, I asked Amanda one day in school while we were outside on the playground why she does not want to play with me anymore. She stated that her uncle said she should not play with niggers, which lead me to ask her what a nigger is because I am not a nigger. She said her grandmother told her that a nigger is a black person and that I was a little nigger. Amanda’s grandmother told her that she needs to play with her own white race. I was so sad that I lost a friend. I went home for school and told my parents what Amanda said to me and why she does not play with me anymore. I begin to cry. My parent begin to explain racism and how some people are just that way. My dad was so upset he called them a bunch of white crackers and I did not

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