I've always found it hard to remember that I'm not looked at the same way as everyone else. No, I'm looked at as different, because of my skin, because of my hair and my culture. People asked silly questions all the time, but I never paid any mind to it. People always made fun of my skin color, and the imperfections in them. People called me names, bullied me, hurt me, because I was different. I never noticed it as racism when I was younger, mostly because I didn't know what racism was. I thought I was just doing something wrong. I remember being so confused after 9/11, people bothered me all the time, people called me a terrorist, people picked on me in the lunch table, or at gym class, or in the locker room, or in the yard, or even when we had a free period in class. I got picked on a lot on my way to and back from school, so my mom picked me up and dropped me off. One day when I was in the second grade she came late, and I had to wait by myself by the school with a few of the other kids, including my crush at the time " Carolina". one of the kids who'd bully me walked by, his name was Anthony. Anthony walked by and asked " what's the terrorist doing by himself? Mommy didn't come yet?", he walked over and started kicking my shin and my knees. I begged him to stop, I kept looking at Carolina, and she laughed, she laughed while I cried. I didn't know what I did wrong this time, I didn't know why he was hurting me again, I remember wondering why everyone hated me so much, I wondered why everyone wanted to hurt me all the time... at home, in school, the teachers, the students, the people at the airport... I wanted to know why they wanted to make me cry so much. even now, I sometimes forget that I am different, I forget that I'm not looked at as a normal person, I forget that the color of my skin matters, that the uniqueness from my culture and upbringing alienates me, that people still find other cultures as alien practices. People tell me I'm damaged because of the experiences I had growing up. people told me those days hurt me, but I insist it's the contrary, Anthony, Carolina, and all those who brought tears and blood to me, they enlightened me, they taught me how the world works, they showed me that people fear us different people, He showed me that this society DOES NOT want us different people to live our different lives. I'll keep pushing their buttons, I'll keep being different, I want to be different, I want them to sense it, I want them to alienate me, I want them to single us different people out, I want people to acknowledge our differences. I'm glad I'm different, I'm glad I'm not like everyone else, I'm fucking glad that people are threatened by us different people.
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