“Looking for change” by Trevor R

I could feel the skin being torn away from my body as I made contact with the turf. The smell of
rubber burning in the scorching heat of the summer day filled my nose. As I recovered from the tackle I
heard one of my opponents mumble something under their breath.
“What did you say?”, I asked him.
He repeated “Tu eres un negro estupido! Este no es tu deporte!”
Although I did not completely understand what he said, I knew the history behind the use of
the harsh term “negro.” I was immediately aware that he was not complimenting me. So I asked again.
“What did you say?”He replied in English, “Why are you here? This ain’t your sport! Go home
to your familia and eat a banana, monkey.”
I was being classified as a monkey because of the color of my skin. An animal. This is
what my grandfather had experienced throughout his daily life walking to school, going to the store, or even using the restroom. He was threatened, called “nigger”, “negro”, “boy” and “colored”. He had to be aware of where he was and who he was with, what he said and who he said it to, what sports he played and who he played because of the color of his skin. Now I was experiencing this for myself; I was hurt.

How was I supposed to react to his attack? Show him “who’s boss” by giving him a shiner on
his left eye, or ignore it and let it slide? I could beat his team to show him I was not a ‘negro’ that ate
bananas, but rather a well educated human being who was black and played soccer well. One among
many, including great black soccer players like Maurice Edu, Mario Balotelli, and Jozy Altidore. But
would that change a thing?
This is racism. And now I realize, this is what I experience when I walk into a gas station and
the store clerk follows me to see that I do not steal anything. This is what I experience when I walk into a supermarket and people are looking at me like I am going to cause trouble. This is my experience.
But I’m not the only one. My two Arab friends who are hijabies, or Muslim women who wear a
scarf in public, also experience racial discrimination. They tell stories of hearing racist comments such as“terrorists” and “They have a bomb!” One of them told me, “Sometimes I just want to take it off so thatI won’t have to go through these things anymore. I am tired of people being ignorant and thinking that I am a terrorist.”

I don't think trying to erase who you are is the answer. The person who inflicted this attack on
me was Latino. In one way or another, he has probably experienced racism. Maybe he has also been
followed by a store clerk or called some of the names I have heard thrown around school such as,
“wetback” or “beaner”. It is likely we have both been the victims of prejudice.
Racism is not my problem, it’s our problem. People of color should be facing this
problem together, but we are too busy fighting each other. Why?
Are we afraid to discover we are more similar than we want to acknowledge? Are we
afraid of giving up what we think we know? Are we afraid to learn that it is larger than slurs, stares, and everyday prejudice?
We can no longer be afraid. We cannot ignore or avoid racism. It is part of our history, our
country, our schools, our daily lives. I plan to continue developing my understanding of this oppression and others. I want to listen to people’s experiences, learn to find solidarity in our shared struggles, sothat one day, that other soccer player and I, can work together to change all of our lives.
Disclaimer: Not to offend any readers, only to influence change.