Personal Narrative Essay About Racism

I never really thought too much about racism when growing up. Maybe that is due to my upbringing. I was raised in a small diverse country town where, for the most part, everyone got along. Not to say that there was no racism; it just was not seen very often. Some would call me lucky to have been so naïve in my microcosm. Innocent to what was going on outside of my own little world. Because everyone knows, the world revolves solely around every high school teenager.
I first experienced racism in 2009 when I was 17 years old. I was dating a girl I went to high school with named Callie Thrower; she of course was white. Most people did not see anything wrong with two teenagers of different race dating. I met her mother, and she was supportive …show more content…
People are yelling explicit and derogatory terms; they are not racist, just proud to be white. Chanting in unison “the Jews will not replace us”; those people aren’t racist, they are just proud. Telling U.S. born American citizens of other ethnicities to “go back to their own country”, as if the majority of the U.S. population isn’t of foreign descent. Once again, those people aren’t racist, just proud. I understand being proud of one’s race or ethnicity, but when did that become belittling, embarrassing or even physically harming those who are not of the same background.
Often, I hear people justify the reasons they cannot possibly be racist, after making a racist comment. As if them justifying themselves with a weak excuse is going to make me suddenly think they aren’t. This type of ignorance usually sounds like this: “I have a black president, I can’t be racist”, “I’m not racist, I just don’t believe people of different color should be romantically be involved”, and my personal favorite “I’m not racist, I have a black friend.” How silly of me to forget that there is always a practical excuse for racist