Changes

I am so very proud to be an American. Change has been made. At the ripe age of sixty five, I have lived to see the United States mature and accept change, and truly become a united America.



This change has sent a message to all the younger generations, everyone has the same opportunity to become anything they can dream. This has been told to children everywhere, and it has been proven this November 4, 2008.



Dr. Martin Luther King is probably dancing in heaven!



Although I have never been a big fan of Rev. Jessie Jackson, upon seeing his face full of tears, (while watching the news), for the first time ever, I saw a softness, resembling a young boy that took over the harshness of his features. That really touched my soul.



My story: I'm Jewish and learned about prejudices when I was in the sixth grade. My mother moved us to Staten Island, NY, from the Bronx.

I wasn't a very outgoing child in school. Kept to myself.

It was about my third day in school, when the teacher left the room, leaving us to do busy work.

No sooner did the door close, when a couple of my classmates made a cross sign with their fingers and started saying that I killed Christ.

I didn't have any idea who this Christ person was, and I knew I didn't kill anyone. I just couldn't figure out why they were doing this to me. That was just the beginning of the torment. After lunch, we would have to stand in line outside the classroom to wait for the teacher to open the door. The torment continued there.

One day, shortly after that, I was sitting on the stairs, crying, when a boy sat next to me and asked why I was crying. He was Afro-American. I told him what they were doing to me. He put his arms around me and began to tell me, that he knows what I'm going through, because he was called other names.

It was such a rude awakening, to see and hear of the hatred coming out of children our age, because of his color and my religion.

He became my best friend at that time. After school he used to walk me home, sometimes I went to his house. I really liked him as a friend. Then some of our neighbors told my mother about him walking me home.

You guessed it, another shocking awakening! My mother, who always said, everyone is a person, and you can't dislike them because of the way they looked, etc. This person, did a one hundred and fifty degree turn about. She told me, he wasn't allowed to walk me home any more. Her reasoning, "the neighbors are taking it the wrong way". Wow, what a lesson to learn (for me) at such a young age.

We still remained friends while I was at that school, and he would walk me half way to my house, but not close enough to be seen. I did continue to go over to his house and visit for short periods of time. Yes, I was almost honest with him. I couldn't very well tell him about my mothers talk about "white girls and colored boys" ( The terminology "Black" and "Afro-American" were not used or known back then) and what the neighbors thought. So, not to hurt his feelings, especially since he helped me through my hurt, I told him, my mother didn't allow me to have any "boys" as friends.

Even at that age, it hurt to lie, since my mother, was very strict on telling the truth. But what I did learn, was just the beginning of my life's hard lessons and understanding that prejudices do exist. Unfortunately, there'll always be prejudices as long as people teach hatred (to their young) towards others with different beliefs, customs and color. How sad.