Something to ponder
There are a lot of things in this world I do not understand. I don’t understand why we live in a world where children go hungry, I don’t understand why some people do not feel a sense of pride in working for what they have instead of expecting something always to be given to them. I especially do not understand why or how someone could not like a particular group of people because of race or color.
I was raised my whole life in Tennessee, I was born white; however my great-great-grandmother I was told was on the Trail of Tears and settled in North Carolina. I was raised never to judge a person by what they wore or the color of their skin, and in my naivety I assumed everyone around me was raised in like manner. Until I was a teenager I had never witnessed prejudice of any kind.
I usually do not discuss these types of topics because of the heat that they inherently draw, however this column is to give others something to ponder, so as you read these words keep that firmly within your mind.
In my understanding prejudice is not American at all. Because America was founded by so many different ethnic groups we become a country of people running from intolerant people. So in reality no one is fully a native to these lands. So how have we gotten so far from the original plan for America? Now I am not condoning people that sneak into our country and try illegally to live here. I am talking about people that want to be a part of a better way of life for themselves and for their families and go through the system and become American citizens the right way. I have never had any arguments with that. Or the people that are born here but happen to be of a different color. I received a call from a friend of mine a few days ago. He is like my very own brother even though he was born in India. I love him and his family dearly. If he would call me any day or night I would help him. Well he called me one day and asked if I knew of a good martial arts instructor, and I said I did. I have studied Aikido for many years and I am of the mind that it is the best martial arts to teach self-control, discipline, and self-defense. I was understandably curious so I asked him why he needed one. I knew he had taken different martial arts in India but what he began to tell me filled my heart with anger, sadness, and shame.
He told me he wanted to get his child into martial and the reason shocked me to my core. He said his son has been withdrawn and not very talkative and when he pressed him he was told that some older and bigger kids were pouring sodas into his lunch tray and ruining his food at school. And then the worst part was they called him a brown boy. This wounded me. I could not believe that parents would raise children to speak and say these things to an eight-year-old child. My friend told me, “Why do people say such things? No one can help the color God made them. You cannot help being white no more than I can help being brown.” This hit my heart. He is right. No one can help the color God made them. I told him that his son is special. I love him as if he were my family. And my own son loves playing with his son. I just don’t understand how anyone could hurt such a precious boy with such mean words. Something to ponder.
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So far. Manny Van Johnson sent his stooges Smalls and Numbers to locate the axe man, and they believe they found his place of residents.