Racism

I want to talk about racism. I have plenty of experience with racism towards me. However, I sadly cannot say I did not do it as either. As embarrassing as it is, I have been on both sides of racism. Nobody is perfect.

During my young adult years, I worked with my friends in one of the fast-food chains. I can remember there was a Hispanic coworker who washed the dishes. During one shameful day, I remember following my friend's lead when they started to pick on her. Meanwhile, my so-called "friends" told her that she needed to learn English or go back across the border. I was secretly ashamed of my actions. She had not done anything to us or tried to fight us back.

I shamefully gave her one soft voice to insult her. Although I did not want to hurt her, I did not want to let my friends down. I could not comprehend why I felt so bad about being racist towards her at that time. Everybody else saw no fault in it. I told my parents and relatives about the incident, and they seemed not to care. It seemed that nobody cared about being bullied because of racism.

Lessons are hard to learn and seem to come at the least expected time. Once I convinced myself that the whole world was racist and started acting that way, my world turned upside down. I was living with my long-term boyfriend when an unfortunate event happened, and we had to separate. I had nowhere to go. I asked a cousin if I could stay with her temporarily. She told me I could come live with her, her fianc, and a roommate. Her fianc spoke very little English, and her roommate said even less.

When I got to know them, I was amazed. How could I not be? I mean, the food, the music, the dancing! It was like every day was a celebration of life. I found the Hispanics to be so full of energy and passion. That was when I learned how lousy racism felt. Once I understood the language, I began to understand the rude comments about me. Most Hispanic men accepted and encouraged me to learn and enjoy the culture. I have received a lot of racism from the females, though. In their minds, I was intruding on their culture and taking their men. I was ashamed when they would start talking about me, not thinking I could understand. I would stand there and not stand up for myself. How could I? I would stand there and think, "maybe this is how that woman felt all those years ago."

So, no, I understand how it feels for someone not to accept you because of your race. It is not how I want my children to be raised. My responsibility as a mother of mixed-race children is to teach them to embrace others and stand up to those who still believe racism is the way to go. We must let go of our fear of the unknown and embrace those different

from us. The only way we will change is to make the change ourselves.

Is that ok for an essay?