Segregation for ethnicity is such a grisly machine, that the product pumped from its winding gears is repugnant pollution for our entire system of life. When I was a kid, I carried little notion for the racial barriers that separated ethnical extremists from the rest of society. All of my heroes happened to be African Americans, and I turned a blind eye to racial bigotry. Frolicking about at my neighborhood park, I noticed a small black boy skipping over in my direction. Pulling my self from one monkey bar to another, the petite boy wandered over and decided to shadow me in my childhood merriment. In the short time that we played together, we transformed into fast friends. We laughed and pushed each other on the swings, we wallowed up and down on the deck of a see-saw that we envisioned was a pirate ship, and played tag until we collapsed, giggling with exhaustion. As the sun began setting and reflecting purple ripples across the sky that mirrored our wonderful delight, a loud sinister bellow ruptured our cheerfulness. I glanced up in time to see what appeared to be the boy’s heavy set mother, bounding forward with a horrified sneer slashed across her face. Grabbing the boy by the arm, she slapped the boy with daunting force. As the boy screamed, his mother lectured him about staying with his own kind and to never diverge with those of another color. She threatened the boy with an assortment of grisly punishments if she ever saw him playing with a white boy again. As the mother dragged her wailing son away, I glanced at the boy with tears streaming from my eyes, my gut wrenching with the sad reality that I had lost a friend. I have never seen the boy since that day, but the realities of discrimination still exist. Wars and disputes have ignited across our country, discarding countless of lives and further defining the harshness of partiality. Skin color continues to be the deciding barrier in certain vicinities. I believe in breaking the boundaries of racism and uniting together as one peaceful community.
So I’ll leave you with this message;
We’ll only have one earth. Why can’t we live together and at peace?
By. Kyle is 16 years old and a junior at Communication Arts in San Antonio. He was informed of the This I Believe program for an assignment issued by his English teacher. He hopes to continue writing in the future.
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