A
few years ago, around Easter, my family went on a cruise. We stopped in Jamaica
and spent our day at Dunn’s River Falls. Because it was a holiday there were
many native Jamaicans as well as tourists. After climbing the waterfall I
decided to return to the bottom of the waterfall to spend some time on the
beach.
While swimming with my brother a
young black Jamaican boy walked over to me and said, “What’s up whitey?” At the
time I thought what he had said was funny, but I later realized that he was
trying to be rude. Being white meant that I was never insulted simply due to
the color of my skin. I did not enjoy being cast down for something I had no
control over. I know I will never understand having to deal with the amount of
hate most people have dealt with in their lifetime, but I do now understand the
power of one single hateful word.
I have always believed that no
matter the color of skin you should be treated with respect as a human being.
But that day at the beach in Jamaica I learned that all those hateful words we
throw around really do hurt, even if we don’t think they do. I hold tight to my
belief that racial terms, even the ones that aren’t meant to be hurtful,
shouldn’t be used by anyone; not even the people who the words were aimed at in
the beginning. “Taking back” words keep the them alive; we need to just let
all these words die along with all the hate that they have created.
Word Count: 274
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