Excerpt from My Novel (UNTITLED)

(EXCUSE THE GRAMMAR...FOR NOW) -"DONE is better than Perfect."

Look Officer James, I was sick of my parents. I grew so sick and tired of being told how to love, who to love and for what reasons. I'm so sick of America's biased ass perceptions of what beauty is and which race is more beautiful and more powerful. It's stupid, really. And I honestly couldn't take it anymore. All I wanted was to love this woman with all I have - with everything in me. I wanted my family to love her beyond her skin color. I wanted them to see her for the beautiful, artistic, intelligent and supportive woman that she is. But they couldn't. They just couldn't and even if they wanted to they absolutely wouldn't have.

See, my parents grew up in a small town of Willacoochee Georgia. It's was one of the most racist towns in the United States. My grandparents hated blacks and their parents had slaves. So honestly, it's all that my parents knew. That's how they were raised. They were raised to hate black people.

My dad once told me that my grandfather made him push an African-American kid into a river to watch him drown. Luckily there was white man riding his bike who pulled the boy out of the water. Nothing happened to my Grandpa or my father but I'm sure that poor boy was scarred for life. My mom’s evilness is no exception. She told me that they went to an all-white school and they used to throw rocks out of the windows at the black girls that walked home. She once she hit a girl so hard in the head that she fell down and started bleeding. My mom felt bad at first but because her friends laughed she did the same. With that being said, my parents were bad people.

I've never adopted the mentality that black people were inferior and that white people are superior. White supremacy, to me, bunch of bullshit. I've had several black friends - friends of different races actually. And never did I look at myself as being better than them or smarter. I love people. I love all types of people.

I grew up with a deep hatred for my parents, yet I had to respect them because they were, in fact my parents. They raised me. And with all the hatred they tried to instill me towards other groups of people, for some reason it just fueled my respect I love for those other people. It made me want to learn more about the different cultures. Like I said Officer, I am not my parents.

Well, given the circumstances of my upbringing my family could never understand why I actually like being around black folks. They never understood why or how I was able to reject their ideology of blacks. They never understood why I was different. Why I wanted to be different. Why I chose to be different.

My father hated black people so much that he refused a very well paying Human Resources management position at his company because he knew that he would have to hire black people. He would have to shake their hands and wish them well and speak with the in detail. He’d have to ask them about their lives, what they like to do and about how far they wanted to go with the company. The unfortunate part is that he didn't care and since he rejected the promotion and raise I had to miss out on a lot growing up. How pathetic is that? He didn't want to look at those potential employees. He even made sure that his desk was in the very far corner of the office so that he didn't have to interact with them as much.

Everyone knew that my father was a racist but because he didn't speak on those things that he really wanted to say and because he kept to himself no one bothered him. CEO of the company was white all of the management staff was white. T they all stayed together.

I had a friend named Charles when I was younger and Elementary he always wondered why he couldn't come to my house. He asked his mom and she would always say sure but I always come up with an excuse as to how my mom was sick and battling cancer and my dad just didn't want the company to bother her. And some point of Middle School Charles found out that my parents are racist and you couldn't understand how a child to grow up in a racist household and not also be racist so he just took it upon himself to stop being friends with me comma it was a hard period of my life and for a kid I was heartbroken because he was my best friend. I guess I had to respect his feelings and just let him go.

So you see officer I don't regret it one bit. As I sit here in this town and reflect on everything that happened everything that was said I can't say that I regret it and honestly I'm better off. The world is better off.

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