This is a docuseries of my own accounts. It’s a story about my interactions with law enforcement and racism that I have faced.
What the eyes see and the ears hear, the mind believes.
Part 1
We are far too great of a nation, a “United” nation to let racism, hatred, brutality, and bullying continue. Well, I mean what we started to want to be on paper, not through application. We failed miserably. I grow tired of hearing and reading all the stories of people that for whatever reason, can’t harmonize with one another. Why? Well, first we need to understand that each of us has our own history that brought us to this point right now.
I am not talking about digging into the past of the United States per se because clearly, that has done us no good. It will be counterproductive in what we are trying to do now. Not one single person who will be reading this can say they were present and accounted for way back when. All we can do is move forward with open minds and open hearts. Let’s learn about our own lifetimes and what we have personally experienced.
Now let’s get started with my story. Some of this story will be from the beginning and intro to the blog but it’s ok we will get a refresher. I will be going back into my past and talking to you about what I have been through, what I have seen, done, and been exposed to. The purposes are to start the healing process with one another. You need to get through the bad stuff to get to the good stuff.
Because if we don’t we will never come close to understanding. We also may not ever fully understand if we have never really gone through it ourselves. But if we can at least empathize, that will be a good place to start.
As most of you know I am from Puerto Rico. But what some don’t know is I started this grand ole life being born in New York. My mother is Hispanic and my biological father being white. I say biological because he dipped out on us when I was less than 1 year old. He chose drugs instead of his family. So sad that anyone would choose drugs over family, but I do understand that drug addiction is a mental thing.
We then moved to Puerto Rico where my family is from. Growing up we had lots of family around us. My family is all different shades, from white to black and everything in between. We didn’t have racism as we have here on the mainland. We just had people that were nice and some that were shitty. Each group, color, ethnicity all have good and bad. Our goal should be to eradicate the system of identifying people as a color. It’s just unnecessary.
We then moved to Atlanta, Georgia. Dear God, we moved to a very racially divided area on the south side. Our lunchroom in school was divided by white, black, others, and skateboarders. Yes, as you know I was a skateboarder. As skateboarders, we came in every shade and all got along so I fit right in. It was very odd to look from the entrance of the cafeteria to the back. Sad.
In the south, at that time many whites didn’t like the blacks or the others. Yes, I was considered “other.” I had suntan skin and some kind of accent that the people would point out. My experiences were less than welcoming. (I will speak of the different races throughout this series only to give proper situational context) The white people at first were somewhat friendly until they discovered where I was from (please remember I am half white), then the next day they wouldn’t speak to me.
To be continued…
