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Against Me
I am an American. Ok, I guess you could say I am African-American. But wouldn't it be great if the word African didn't matter? Once, when I was six years old, a man came up to me. To be exact, a white man came up to me and told me that I needed to go to Africa. I didn't answer, I was afraid. Afraid that everyone around me was like that against African-Americans.
"What, you don't speak English? Well then you really should go back to your country you N****!"
And even to this day I never forgot that day. I was hurt. I felt that I couldn't trust any white person again. But then I realized something.
* It doesn't matter if you are black, white, asian, gay, straight, fat, skinny... What matters is what is inside.
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P.S. The picture to me shows that we are all different but we CAN all work together... as a family of Americans.