A feeling. Sick to my stomach.

So a few days ago my mom decided to have a bbq and invite some people from the church over.
And so I helped clean and such in the morning… and when the bbq came
it was …interesting. Kinda awkward at first. But somehow it managed to get worse.
I slept in and missed church, and so I asked one of the guys there  how it went.
He said it was good. And then started talking about how some of the coloured folks down south have the best voices and worship in their churches. Then he brought up the segregation in the south (I don’t know why.)but I started to get really uncomfortable as I was hoping he would stop talking.  (As I knew where this was going) But he didn’t …he started talking about a story where his mom washed her clothes in a n*ggers washbin… and everyone was laughing. Those are one of the times I wish I had someone to talk to who would understand how frustrating that was. And it’s so hard to describe how it makes me feel. But it’s like this huge unsettling thing in my stomach that dosen’t know weather it should shout and rage or cry and shut down.
My step dad came in the room and said, “Thank you for being diplomatic”. In all honesty that just made me want to slap him. Which I would never do.
Back in my highschool days I had quite the selection of racist teachers. (Most of whom taught english.)
And back then I could talk to my dad about it because he understood.
This one time I came home from school and got my dad to read a story the teacher asked me ‘permission’ to read aloud to the class. I read it and was fed up and told my dad to read it. He was soo angry he ripped it up and thew it across the floor. He said I didn’t have to go to school the next day if I didn’t wan’t to. But I wen’t anyways.  I never gave her permission and she read it anyways. After she read the story she said, “Wasen’t that beautiful?”….  I was soo enraged.
She didn’t speak about the bad in the story, but it’s almost as if she was redeeming it to the class.
We started talking about in in detail and whenever I put up my hand and brought up issues that were entailed in the story like racial profiling and stereotypes, she tried to shut me up by saying, “you’re going to far with this Angela” Yet thats what the whole stupid story was about.
And this one time me and my dad wen’t into a store and the workers said very loudly, “Oh look theres a couple of n*iggers in here” and my dad got so angry I knew he wanted to punch them.
So I grabbed his arm and said lets get out of here dad and we did.
Lots of people think that racism is gone, but the fact of the matter is… you will not see it if you are white.
Sounds harsh, but it’s not. It’s simply the truth.
If you are coloured you will pick up on things that others won’t notice. And no one ever believes you that the “man purposely didn’t give you your drink even though you were standing right in front of him asking for it”. I don’t wan’t this to be a bitter rant. Anyways it’s just frustrating… and blogging is my way to vent. I guess. Hypocrite.
So I think we all need to remember something.
God created us all as one: the human race/ humankind.
God also created us as a reflection of himself, for we were made in His image whether we are

African, European, American, Indian, Asian…white or black
God meant for us to all be different, because he meant for it all to be different images of beauty. If we are all made in God’s image, then shouldn’t we acknowledge every different race? For in that, we are acknowledging a gift from God?

There’s nothing new under the sun. First it was the “jews vs. the gentiles” now it’s “white vs.black” in the church….we all make up the church and sometimes forget that we’re brothers and sisters. Love one another love your brother even if he is different.

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