Discrimination: Personal Experience
*Knock knock knock knock* Mrs. Tina was banging on my front door. My mom answered the door and I knew it was bad.
“Your daughter just called my boy the n word!’’ she shouted at my mom’s face. Instantly my mother defended me but Mrs. Tina wouldn’t accept it. I sat on the couch listening to their conversation. After a while my dad called for me, “Lexi! Come here please.” I scrambled over to the front door. My mom looked me in the eyes and asked me if I said that word.
“No”, I innocently replied. My parents told me to go sit down and I went. We lived in a multicultural neighborhood. Across the street we had a man from India who had a wonderful vegetables and her shared them with us all the time. There was also a family from Mexico that had gold paint. No joke, it was really gold. Next to them was a family from the Philippines. They had little girls that would always steal money from people. Then further down the street there was a little boy from Iran that always swore at me. Our next door neighbors were African Americans and that was Mrs. Tina. Mrs. Tina lived in the house next to us with her two grandchildren and her daughter. Her grandchildren, Jasai and Kaniya, were my two best neighborhood friends. We went to school together and always walked to and from the bus together. In the part of Georgia that I lived in, white people were definitely the minority. Sometimes I would get left out of things because I was the “white girl”. But after time went on, my closest friends were the ones leaving me out. When Jasai and I got home from school, we’d always play together in the street. Jasai was a little black boy, who was my age, had dreads and always wore a gold chain necklace. Kaniya was the older one that always had the cool phone and the teenager stuff she was beautiful. Jasai and I always thought we were so cool when she would play with us because she was older. We would play these games where you throw a ball over the fence and then the other person
“Your daughter just called my boy the n word!’’ she shouted at my mom’s face. Instantly my mother defended me but Mrs. Tina wouldn’t accept it. I sat on the couch listening to their conversation. After a while my dad called for me, “Lexi! Come here please.” I scrambled over to the front door. My mom looked me in the eyes and asked me if I said that word.
“No”, I innocently replied. My parents told me to go sit down and I went. We lived in a multicultural neighborhood. Across the street we had a man from India who had a wonderful vegetables and her shared them with us all the time. There was also a family from Mexico that had gold paint. No joke, it was really gold. Next to them was a family from the Philippines. They had little girls that would always steal money from people. Then further down the street there was a little boy from Iran that always swore at me. Our next door neighbors were African Americans and that was Mrs. Tina. Mrs. Tina lived in the house next to us with her two grandchildren and her daughter. Her grandchildren, Jasai and Kaniya, were my two best neighborhood friends. We went to school together and always walked to and from the bus together. In the part of Georgia that I lived in, white people were definitely the minority. Sometimes I would get left out of things because I was the “white girl”. But after time went on, my closest friends were the ones leaving me out. When Jasai and I got home from school, we’d always play together in the street. Jasai was a little black boy, who was my age, had dreads and always wore a gold chain necklace. Kaniya was the older one that always had the cool phone and the teenager stuff she was beautiful. Jasai and I always thought we were so cool when she would play with us because she was older. We would play these games where you throw a ball over the fence and then the other person