When you do things only for praise and the recognition of others that alone will always be your reward, when you do good things simply because your good nature compels you to do so, you will be blessed because the positive energy you sent out has returned and multiplied.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
changed forever but not scarred
posted this in the "Exposing white truth" group on facebook, i'll also share it with you all, it's long so i'm sorry lol, i know folks don't like to read
My first experience with Racism was when i was about 9 or 10 and i was outside playing with my Friend Joey, he was your average White kid but growing up all my friends were of a different nationality and being that all of our parents where in the Military it was not uncommon. My best friend Brian was Mexican, Joey was Caucasian as i stated, Lea'an was Korean i think, Jason was Irish if i'm not mistaken. Anyways we called ourselves catch-Q , we all had code names and we spelled then out as acronyms where each letter had to have a meaning. My name is Sadiki (Shy-Dee-Key) and it stood for Super Awesome Dude in Kids incorporated (silly i know). Now that we have some background, rewind to the day when myself and Joey were playing outside. He asked me if i wanted anything to drink and said that i could come into his house. His grandfather was there and i thought it would be cool to meet him, Joey said that he was cool but disabled so try not to stare at his legs in the wheel chair.
Here is where things get messed up, Upon walking into the house, Myself and Joey get something to drink and go into his room to play on his Dart board, i can here the sound of an Electric wheel chair coming down the hallway and then it stops. i turn to see this Old decrepit shriveled man and i can FEEL something dark within him. Joey says "oh Shai this is my Grandfather" and before i could say hello..........."WHO LET THIS NIGGER IN THE HOUSE" are the first words i hear from this lost soul. I froze, i looked into his eyes unable to move, he stared back at me and for the first time i witnessed hate, true hate, malice and disdain, but for what? i had done nothing to him but stand in the same room. he ranted about me being in the house but the words he uttered first just kept playing in my head, i couldn't hear anything else, he yelled obscenities but nothing was clear to me. i was finally able to move after Joey grabbed me and pulled me out of the room, i couldn't even feel my feet move, i don't remember walking, i just remember my eyes being locked with The Old man as i drifted passed him. He stared me down as i went by, i could even feel him burning a hole in my head as i exited the front door.
I was empty.............................i didn't talk to Joey as i walked through the door, i couldn't hear anything but "Who let that nigger in the house" bounce around in my head. Sure i had seen movies with racially charged subjects in it but coming from such a diverse background, they were more like windows into a past i didn't think existed, i was somewhat sheltered growing up in that sense because my parents always taught us to never hate another person, race relations and all that other stuff was never taught, we were shown to love others. As i walked home i began to feel overwhelmed with sadness because i could not understand why someone i never met hated me so much. i started to cry, then become filled with anger, then a rage i had never felt in life and i began to run home. i burst through the Door and i ran to my Father who to me at the time was a Giant, he was my Hero. Senior Master Sergeant Billy Givens still had on his camo green Uniform. i wrapped my arms around him and attempted to convey what had happened as i cried and shouted. he finally calmed me down "Baby what happened? slow down, what's the matter?" and as i caught my breath, i sobbed it out. i could see the anger in his face grow as well as the sadness in the fact that his oldest son had just had a bitter dose of reality shoved down his throat against his will and well before his time.
My Father put on his Hat and put his Steel Toed Boots back on, lacing this hurriedly and grabbed me by the hand saying "ok where is he?". i pointed towards Joey's apartment building and i tried my best to keep up with my fathers strides, i felt like i was being carried. we reached the door and i became filled with fear, i didn't know what my father was going to do or say, he knocked on the door with a fierceness that sounded off through the hot summer air. Joey opened the door and quickly moved to the right as my father barreled into the house. i looked at Joey and he knew what was about to happen.
My father walked straight over to the old man and lifted him out of the wheel chair and began screaming at him about what he had called me. i saw the feeble man be reduced to a whimpering pile of nothing as my father yelled "CALL ME A NIGGER, PLEASE DO IT, SAY IT NOW, HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT TO MY SON, SAY IT AGAIN, GIVE ME A REASON TO FINISH THE JOB!!" .............................silence filled the room and all you could hear was the old man breathing and gasping to apologize. the look in his eyes had changed, the power he had over me was no longer there and there was only the look of helplessness. I began to feel sorry for him, conflicted in thought i wanted to hate him and revel in the scene, i wanted to laugh and smile in his face..................but i couldn't, it felt wrong to do so, my heart wouldn't let me. i just turned around and walked out of the door. My Father talked to Joey but i didn't hear what was said, he later took me to get ice cream and he talked to me about racism and how it was worse when he was growing up in Mississippi, at the time, i still didn't understand it all. I never talked to Joey again, we would see each other at school but things just didn't feel the same. That was my first time hearing the word "Nigger" in person and seeing what hatred looked like. forever changed but not scarred.
My first experience with Racism was when i was about 9 or 10 and i was outside playing with my Friend Joey, he was your average White kid but growing up all my friends were of a different nationality and being that all of our parents where in the Military it was not uncommon. My best friend Brian was Mexican, Joey was Caucasian as i stated, Lea'an was Korean i think, Jason was Irish if i'm not mistaken. Anyways we called ourselves catch-Q , we all had code names and we spelled then out as acronyms where each letter had to have a meaning. My name is Sadiki (Shy-Dee-Key) and it stood for Super Awesome Dude in Kids incorporated (silly i know). Now that we have some background, rewind to the day when myself and Joey were playing outside. He asked me if i wanted anything to drink and said that i could come into his house. His grandfather was there and i thought it would be cool to meet him, Joey said that he was cool but disabled so try not to stare at his legs in the wheel chair.
Here is where things get messed up, Upon walking into the house, Myself and Joey get something to drink and go into his room to play on his Dart board, i can here the sound of an Electric wheel chair coming down the hallway and then it stops. i turn to see this Old decrepit shriveled man and i can FEEL something dark within him. Joey says "oh Shai this is my Grandfather" and before i could say hello..........."WHO LET THIS NIGGER IN THE HOUSE" are the first words i hear from this lost soul. I froze, i looked into his eyes unable to move, he stared back at me and for the first time i witnessed hate, true hate, malice and disdain, but for what? i had done nothing to him but stand in the same room. he ranted about me being in the house but the words he uttered first just kept playing in my head, i couldn't hear anything else, he yelled obscenities but nothing was clear to me. i was finally able to move after Joey grabbed me and pulled me out of the room, i couldn't even feel my feet move, i don't remember walking, i just remember my eyes being locked with The Old man as i drifted passed him. He stared me down as i went by, i could even feel him burning a hole in my head as i exited the front door.
I was empty.............................i didn't talk to Joey as i walked through the door, i couldn't hear anything but "Who let that nigger in the house" bounce around in my head. Sure i had seen movies with racially charged subjects in it but coming from such a diverse background, they were more like windows into a past i didn't think existed, i was somewhat sheltered growing up in that sense because my parents always taught us to never hate another person, race relations and all that other stuff was never taught, we were shown to love others. As i walked home i began to feel overwhelmed with sadness because i could not understand why someone i never met hated me so much. i started to cry, then become filled with anger, then a rage i had never felt in life and i began to run home. i burst through the Door and i ran to my Father who to me at the time was a Giant, he was my Hero. Senior Master Sergeant Billy Givens still had on his camo green Uniform. i wrapped my arms around him and attempted to convey what had happened as i cried and shouted. he finally calmed me down "Baby what happened? slow down, what's the matter?" and as i caught my breath, i sobbed it out. i could see the anger in his face grow as well as the sadness in the fact that his oldest son had just had a bitter dose of reality shoved down his throat against his will and well before his time.
My Father put on his Hat and put his Steel Toed Boots back on, lacing this hurriedly and grabbed me by the hand saying "ok where is he?". i pointed towards Joey's apartment building and i tried my best to keep up with my fathers strides, i felt like i was being carried. we reached the door and i became filled with fear, i didn't know what my father was going to do or say, he knocked on the door with a fierceness that sounded off through the hot summer air. Joey opened the door and quickly moved to the right as my father barreled into the house. i looked at Joey and he knew what was about to happen.
My father walked straight over to the old man and lifted him out of the wheel chair and began screaming at him about what he had called me. i saw the feeble man be reduced to a whimpering pile of nothing as my father yelled "CALL ME A NIGGER, PLEASE DO IT, SAY IT NOW, HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT TO MY SON, SAY IT AGAIN, GIVE ME A REASON TO FINISH THE JOB!!" .............................silence filled the room and all you could hear was the old man breathing and gasping to apologize. the look in his eyes had changed, the power he had over me was no longer there and there was only the look of helplessness. I began to feel sorry for him, conflicted in thought i wanted to hate him and revel in the scene, i wanted to laugh and smile in his face..................but i couldn't, it felt wrong to do so, my heart wouldn't let me. i just turned around and walked out of the door. My Father talked to Joey but i didn't hear what was said, he later took me to get ice cream and he talked to me about racism and how it was worse when he was growing up in Mississippi, at the time, i still didn't understand it all. I never talked to Joey again, we would see each other at school but things just didn't feel the same. That was my first time hearing the word "Nigger" in person and seeing what hatred looked like. forever changed but not scarred.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)