The Idea of an Essay, Volume 3

2016 Composition Contest Winnners 5 in the ghetto did not mean they were black; it just meant they were raised in the ghetto. Language does not determine your race or who you are as a person. It is just one part of you that helps makes up who you are. You cannot be defined on your language and it never has been nor will it ever be okay to define a person by their skin color. That summer I learned that being black did not mean fitting into stereotypes. Instead it meant that I happened to be born black. It was something that I had always known, but now it was something that I started to truly understand and live out. That school year, which was my junior year, I would hear people tell me some of the most racist things and look at them in pity because they assumed that since they said no offense it was not bad. I would go home and tell my mom about it and she would just laugh and laugh and then point out the humor in what had been said. My mom taught me to sometimes laugh it off and then set them straight. I learned to simply just look at the person that said something without much thought and just shake my head. They did not realize that the world was so much bigger than the town we lived in. I felt pity for their situation and hoped they would learn before they ended up looking foolish in front of a large group of people. I knew there would come a time when I would truly have to stick up for myself and finally the perfect moment arose. I was ready and I was calm. I had been talking to people how it was rude for the comments and so they had started to stop. However, there was one girl that still had yet to learn. She was the one that had done it the most and she was the one I depicted the second time. She was the type of girl that would point out your flaws and tell you when you were wrong before ever pointing out something good that you have done. Then she would try and make everybody pity and notice her. I had let her get by with it because we were friends, but I realized friends do not do or say half the things she did and it was way past time to stop her. She started with her typical, “You are so white,” comment yet everybody sitting around us at the lunch table knew things were different, “ no offense but you act so white instead of black. You even talk white.” My best friend looked up at me curious to see how I would handle the situation. The lunchroom seemed to quiet down as my head started to clear and the words started to form ready to destroy