My Slavery Experience

Throughout elementary school, a requirement was to learn about slavery. It was an entire unit and we did many activities with it. We read out of history books, watched movies, and went on field trips to learn about black history. Every single activity affected me. When we would read about it, I would be the one to raise my hand to read aloud because I wanted everyone to know that I understood. When we would watch movies, I felt every whip and crack of the bones as if it were me. When we went on field trips, I really observed the history of my past and sucked it in. Meanwhile, although it made me angry, I never had to express that; I went to a school full of African Americans and we all shared similar thoughts and feelings.
As my childhood continued, I transferred to a school in the suburbs with a dominantly white community. At this new school, I found myself feeling out of place, and I started to adapt to their ways of life; I straightened my hair all the time, I would stop being friendly, and I looked at myself as one of them. Consequently, I was rude and mean to other black people who I used to share similar …show more content…
I care about others, but I also care about myself and I know not to let someone influence who I am. I like to meet new people, of any race, and I would never be one to discriminate. Without a doubt, I know that I am going to be the same way if I were Black, White, or any other race. I know this because race does not define who I am on the inside, it's just a color category. However, I’m satisfied with being a black girl. Without the knowledge of black history, I would have never been a better person. Remembering what I had learned allowed me to see that I was acting prejudice to even my own race. I had to realize that Black is beautiful, just like White is beautiful. To conclude, it's not skin color or hair type that matters, it's the internal characteristics that made me who I am pleased to