I knew this girl, Rebekah, she was half white, and part Spanish and black. We got along really well. She looked like a white girl too. And I don't mean in color, so much as appearance, her features. Her color actually changed a lot. White as snow during cold season, caramel hazel in the hot seasons. She easily mixed in with both the white cliches and colored cliches. Well, we were friends.... Until Courtney. She was black. Started talking shit about me, my race, my color, started putting a hate label on me for stuff that happened decades ago. One day, she cornered me, along with her gang with black and mixed girls. She and these girls shoved me into a swing, that had a rope securing it.They twirled it in a circle, forced my neck through the twist, and twisted it further. I was crying, trying to scream but I couldn't breathe, and the stupid winnie the pooh swing wouldn't let me kick my body free. They held me there. Laughing while I cried and choked. They heard the parents laughter from the party heading towards us, so they let go of the swing. Afterwards, I cried and screamed until an adult came to help me out of the swing. I told the adults what happened, and the girls feigned innocence.Saying that they wouldn't do something god wouldn't approve of.Their parents congratulated their daughters for being good Christian girls. Then had a talk with my parents, saying that I need prayer for being a racist child. OH THEE IRONY! They hung me in a swing!BUT I GET CALLED RACIST!I yelled that they were liars, that they were the racists.Every single black and mixed parent and child looked like I had just said the N word.One of the black preachers stood over me and said "Colored people can't be racist. I'll pray for you to be cured of your ignorance, and to open your heart to people that are different from you." My parents took me home; grounded me, spanked me, and starved me of dinner that night. Those girls were 9-12 years old. I was 6. Because of my young interactions with racism befalling on me, ironically, I grew up fulfilling their label of me. I hated black people. I hated mixed people. I hated their entitlement to treat whites like shit just because of difference of color. I hated even more their denial of being racists. Luckily, I met a good bit of colored people that were genuinely not racist. They give me the same labels and nicknames as their own colored friends. They treated me as an equal. And in turn, my hatred subsided. I still hate racists of all shades, but I'm no longer racist myself. But I'll be damned if I ever sit by and let a colored person get away with racism just cause they're colored. You are not immune to bigotry, everyone is capable of it.

I knew this girl, Rebekah, she was half white, and part Spanish and black. We got along really well. She looked like a white girl too. And I don't mean in color, so much as appearance, her features. Her color actually changed a lot. White as snow during cold season, caramel hazel in the hot seasons.She easily mixed in with both the white cliches and colored cliches.Well, we were friends....Until Courtney. She was black.Started talking shit about me, my race, my color, started putting a hate label on me for stuff that happened decades ago.One day, she cornered me, along with her gang with black and mixed girls.She and these girls shoved me into a swing, that had a rope securing it.They twirled it in a circle, forced my neck through the twist, and twisted it further.I was crying, trying to scream but I couldn't breathe, and the stupid winnie the pooh swing wouldn't let me kick my body free.They held me there. Laughing while I cried and choked. They heard the parents laughter from the party heading towards us, so they let go of the swing.Afterwards, I cried and screamed until an adult came to help me out of the swing.I told the adults what happened, and the girls feigned innocence.Saying that they wouldn't do something god wouldn't approve of.Their parents congratulated their daughters for being good Christian girls.Then had a talk with my parents, saying that I need prayer for being a racist child.OH THEE IRONY!They hung me in a swing!BUT I GET CALLED RACIST!I yelled that they were liars, that they were the racists.Every single black and mixed parent and child looked like I had just said the N word.One of the black preachers stood over me and said "Colored people can't be racist. I'll pray for you to be cured of your ignorance, and to open your heart to people that are different from you."My parents took me home; grounded me, spanked me, and starved me of dinner that night.Those girls were 9-12 years old.I was 6.Because of my young interactions with racism befalling on me, ironically, I grew up fulfilling their label of me.I hated black people. I hated mixed people. I hated their entitlement to treat whites like shit just because of difference of color. I hated even more their denial of being racists.Luckily, I met a good bit of colored people that were genuinely not racist. They give me the same labels and nicknames as their own colored friends. They treated me as an equal. And in turn, my hatred subsided. I still hate racists of all shades, but I'm no longer racist myself.But I'll be damned if I ever sit by and let a colored person get away with racism just cause they're colored.You are not immune to bigotry, everyone is capable of it.