When I Was a Little Girl

When I was a little girl, my family always loved winter, the lights the snow, the warm car. We always went to look at the different houses, sometimes even got out to walk. One day we were visiting one of my mom's friends and decided to go look at the Christmas lights in her neighborhood. As we were walking we had seen this really pretty house, with a big front door, a mailbox, and a circular driveway, just another home. You could tell kids lived there, the snowman they had built and the swing set in the back. While passing by my little brother had turned to my parents and asked them what "nigger" meant, and my parents explained to him and then asked where he heard this word, he then turned to the house and pointed to the ground where the word "nigger" was written in the snow in really big letters. A family, a home, just like everyone else's, where they had bothered no one. One night someone decided to take weed killer and burn it in giant letters into their lawn. This is why our nation, the melting pot of many races, needs to confront the problem and deal with what really is in front of us.

When I first really thought about this, I thought, this is not Mississippi, or

Alabama; this is Michigan, and it's in a really nice neighborhood. And the thing is, they

are a normal family, just like any other. I was friends with this family, whenever my

family was in the neighborhood; I would always go over there and play. They went on

trips in the summer, and spring, and this time came back to a message on the lawn.

I sat there that day watching cars go by their house as if it were

haunted or something. I guess it can happen anywhere. But this snow-covered

house is still a reflection of America, white on top with a hatred burning

underneath. I go to a college, where the races meet every day. Colored man helps

white man; white man helps colored man, sounds right. That's how bad our society has

gotten, disturbing, of course. But what is more disturbing is, lately when these issues of

racism have come up, there seems to be impatience and annoyance. "Does everything

have to be about racism?" people ask. And they're always complaining that

"It's just a little thing." and it's really not.

People are always saying that America is a little racist. But how is something

so little when it happens in every day activities. It's like saying you're a little pregnant;

can't happen. But this is nothing new. How many times have you heard "He's fast; for a

white guy." Or "White men can't jump," Or "All black guys can jump and dance." And in

reality these are all hateful things to say. As whites, we are the majority, and don't

always realize it. And whenever there's racist complaints, we say "OK, we'll change" with

a sigh. It's the white's who go crazy to get black athlete's autographs. They say "We love

you!" yet how many would let them date your daughter?

Although I say this, I do believe that some progress has been made. But I do think

that when you're the majority, you do have to guard against insensitivity. But you can't

drag it half way up a hill and then abandon it, because it will fall down. I believe that

"we," as a society, have made a considerable effort to decrease racism, but no matter how

hard you try get rid of it, there will always be prejudice brewing in the air. And even

though we would like to forget about the problem, we can no longer avoid it. Racism is

an issue that should be talked about and explained, so that people with little

understanding to the issue can finally open their eyes.

The next time my family and I went to her house, I walked her dog down the

street past the neighbor's house. The lady was out in her garden, and I yelled "HELLO!"

She smiled and waved. I felt awfully good after that, like I had done something,

something good. It wasn't much, a simple "Hello" but it felt like a thousand words. But as

I walked past the house; the snow reminded me of what was written in it, the message

spelled out in weed killer. A message so horrible and torturing, that people don't