“N***as Go Home!” was written on the sidewalk, and everyone could see it. I saw it while on the bus, but I got off to take a closer look. The street worker tried to cover it up, but by this time the news reporter had already got it. I didn’t understand why I was so mad, because stuff like this always happened. This time it was different though, I was beyond mad. I didn’t know what I wanted to do, or when I wanted to do it, but something was going to be done. I was tired of being pushed around and I was fed up. It wasn’t going to happen today, but mark my words…they were going to feel my wrath.
It all started last week, something told me this was going to a bad week, and now I knew why I had that feeling so bad on the inside. “You n*****”, I didn’t move, that wasn’t my name so why would I move. I heard them calling, but I wasn’t listening. “You, you n*****, right there!” they yelled this time, but I still stayed in my seat as if I was deaf to words and blind to the motion of their hands pointing at me. My name was Maya and if they couldn’t call me by that then they wouldn’t get an answer.

I guess it finally hit them that I wasn’t going to answer, because the next time she called she said, “Maya?” I put my book down and looked in her direction, she got up, she crept towards me, and she spit on me. She spit dead on my head. I sat there, I didn’t move and no words came out. She then proceeded to turn around and go back to her seat. She laughed and she laughed, I cried and I cried. “Bye n*****” with a giggle in her voice was the last thing I heard before the sound of the bell released to go home. Home to my mother’s house where’d I probably getting a beatin’ for no good reason at all. Mama always beat us. She beat us for not being smart enough, for being hungry too much, for us living in this small shack, I think she even beat us for being black.

The days passed on, and Friday was now here. This was the day everything happened and I knew my life had been changed. I didn’t even know I was crazy enough to pull a stunt like that. I walked in class like all was forgiven, and when Susan walked into class I stared her down. I stared so deeply at her I saw her soul, and she was pure nasty. My stare must’ve sent chills down her back because as she walked to her seat she held her head down and made sure our eyes didn’t meet. I watched her sent down and then I waited.

It was almost the end of class, and the end of the day. As the teacher tied the lesson together I slid out of my seat, walked to her seat, and I slapped Susan. I slapped her and then begin to beat her. I beat her for all the hell she put me through, all the spit we had to take, all the tears we cried, I beat her for all my pain. I beat her until she passed out and even then I continued to punch her harder and harder. My teacher tried to stop me and I hit her too. I even beat her for the 12 years of prison I later had to serve. I beat her for not being black, all though color didn’t matter to me. It was all about respect, and one way or another I would get my respect. I beat her because she didn’t have to suffer, and because she thought she was better than, when truth be told she was less than. That was the best Friday, I had ever had. And years later when our freedom came I knew it was worth it.

Segregation is something so serious, and today as I am 76 years old I still see some acts of it around. My children and my grandchildren should be grateful, well they are. I make sure they know my story, and those of my friends I never see anymore. I hate that the color of someone’s skin would make them think they are better than the next person, but hey it’s the world we live in. Yes, African American people can now sit anywhere on the bus and yes we can eat anywhere, which doesn’t mean the fight is over. There are still people who hate the next race and this goes for every race, but one day we’ll see that skin color is only skin deep. They may gave us our rights, but as a citizen of America I can say they still haven’t freed us. We’ll never be freed from the captivity of this thing we refer to as life.

It saddens my heart that color can determine how people are looked upon, but it’s the world we live in. And the world we live in is full of sin, not the biblical sin, but the earthly ones. I mean honestly who has the time to hate someone just because they’re not the same color as them, it’s petty and it’s just plain out stupid. Time changes, but the world doesn’t, we’re just reliving the past when we should’ve let it go, years ago. People use slavery as a go to for sympathy, but Jeremy Aldana said it best, “ Pain will leave you when you let it go”.