The N word.

Belonging and thinking you belong are very different things. When you’re in the 6th grade you know that you belong amongst your peers, the other 6th graders. You're a kid amongst other kids. So you are welcomed, it makes sense that you are there. As you sit on the bus that takes 6th graders like you to school, you understand that is where you are supposed to be. You sit next to kids that become your friends and you learn about them. They all seem to be just like you. What they wear, what they look like and how they speak. You see the details of their faces, hair texture, and smiles. You are dressed like them, you speak like them, you even look like them.

Strong words divide you, there is a shift in the bus. Everything around you begins to fog, and your ears begin to ring.

You look at your skin, and realize the difference between yours and theirs. You no longer belong here. You no longer belong on the bus that is meant to take you to your school. You are no longer welcome. The faces watching are now foggy and faded away, and you sit there alone in the dark.

You’re 20 years old, at a party with friends, celebrating the same holiday. Playing the same games, laughing at the same jokes. You belong. You begin to enjoy the company of the others who are just like you. Getting along with everyone there. Then all of a sudden, you feel numb, and become dizzy. This feeling is familiar, your heart starts racing. Darkness begins to overtake the light in the room. All you knew was wrong, you don’t belong. You never did. You’re again left alone in the familiar dark.  

You’re 22 years old, having a meal with your partner. Served by someone just like you. Eating with someone just like you. Besides other people just like you. In a city where you live and where you belong. Leaving the restaurant you begin your walk home, and watch others doing the same thing. You pass a man just like you, except he does not believe the same.

His face shouts in yours, almost as if it were in slow motion. And then you hear it.

You're familiar with the words spoken. You've met them many times before. You’re partner left angry, and you left numb. The street is emptied and you are left once again, in the dark.

You’re outside with your mom. She’s just like you. Enjoying the breeze and the warmth of the sun shining bright. Your siblings are with you, they’re just like you. Laughing, playing and running. You see your neighbors in their yard enjoying the welcoming sun, and the coolness of the summer breeze. They’re just like you. Your soft eyes meet theirs.

Words like a bullet spiral towards you. The impact is great and agony grows within, though you’re untouched. No blood has surfaced, because this wound runs deeper.

You are not like them.

You do not belong.

You are different.

You are no longer home. 

You’re family fades away.

The suns light diminishes, and you welcome your friend, darkness.

I have been called the "N" word, more than I can count on my fingers and toes. The intentional racism against dark skin. The reality of the dehumanization that it causes, leaves you only in a place of pure isolation. You’ve been deemed an outcast, an “alien.”

Although I do not believe these lies, they still are shouted at me in words and in actions. It is exhausting to fight them, yet I fight. These kinds of lies are the seeds of our country, and the fruit we bare is sour. The war of racism unfortunately is deeper, and more complex than a gunshot wound and more like a cancer slowly taking over the body. We have to rid racism like it is a cancer. We must act quickly, precisely and viciously to save this country of ours, before it painfully dies.

This is one of the many struggles people of color face. Some of these examples are real experiences I have had to overcome. Remind someone today that they are seen. That they are not alone. That they are welcome here. That America is home, and that they do indeed, belong. 

K.R