Random Stuff That I Think

The Race of Races

Hi guys! Today I have here a little short story thing like Falling for The Bad Boy, except this one is a bit more intense. It will be talking about a serious issue we face today, racism.

No the approach I had for this short story may give some people the wrong idea, so I would like to clarify first. This story is like in an alternate universe if white/non-people of color where the ones who experienced racism. Also, it's not proving 'reverse racism' is real because its not. Just letting you know, just a bit what its like from the other side of the spectrum.

This short story is not to sympathize to those racist white people (or any other race) that think being called a cracker is just as bad as being called a n****. Get this in your head, I'm not sympathizing with you at all. I'm here trying to show you that they way you are acting is wrong, disgusting, and inhuman. So, change it.

Hope you guys enjoy! :)
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Racism: the belief that all members of each race possess characteristics, abilities, or qualities specific to that race, especially so as to distinguish it as inferior or superior to another race or races.

That was the first thing I noticed when I walked into my English class. Frowning I wondered why it was up there, I mean it's 2015 racism is dead. Everyone knows that, slavery happened a long time ago.

Sitting in my seat that was next to my best friend, Deandra, I asked her what was going on.

Deandra turned to face me, as she did so her big Afro of curls bounced a little. "I was about to ask you the same thing," She replied cupping her hand on her chin. "Everybody knows racism is dead, and has been dead for years."

I nodded along with her, one of my curls falling in front of my eyes. "I'm saying, this stuff is irrelevant." I said.

Deandra just nodded in agreement because our teacher walked into class just as the bell rang.

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Grade 10 English class." He was a light skin guy, who seemed around 6 ft 2. I know without a doubt he must have played basketball in high school. "My name is Mr. Green."

"Now as you can see today I have our topic of discussion on the board." He continued.

I looked at Deandre with a what? face. Turning back to face the teacher I raised my hand, "But sir, racism has been over for a long time, why are we still talking about it?" I asked.

Mr. Green raised his eyebrows. "Ahhh, I was watching for this question. You see... " He made a slight pause waiting for my name.

"Desiree." I told him.

"Yes. You see Desiree, although we've been taught that racism is no longer alive it very much is." He started to explain while walking around the classroom. "In fact racism is very much alive, now it's dressed in different clothes."

Me and Deandra turned to look at each other and rolled our eyes. Mr. Green continued, "Every day people experience racism, they are judged because of their skin color, and have less opportunities because of it."

He carried on for the rest of the class, but I zoned out. Racism is over like, white people need to get over what happened all those years ago. I groaned, and just rested my head on my table.

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I was walking in the hallway on my way to lunch when someone bumped into me. "Oh my ba-" I started, but then I noticed it was just Becky Wilison. Since I realized who it was I just sneered and push passed her. Rolling my eyes I mumbled, "Stupid white people, ugh, just go back to your country."