Growing up as an African American female, I have been exposed to many forms of racism. Many times I have wondered how and why â€œwhiteâ€ people were so hateful towards â€œblack peopleâ€, who were by no means inferior to them. In my generation, I cannot say that I have truly â€œsufferedâ€. My parents, on the other hand, could tell me very hateful stories concerning racism. I could never understand the hate that they have towards us. I could understand if there had been some sort of conflict we hade encountered with them, but I had never heard of such a thing.
I had always been taught that white people had forced Africans, or better yet that some Africans had sold other Africans as slaves. I still was baffled as to why their was so much hate or disgust. In the many accounts of history I have been exposed to, Caucasians seemed to look upon blacks as animals. Why would they refer to us as animals? Is their something that they see in the mirror that we donâ€™t? Do we walk on all fours? Were not we also human and intelligent in our own right? I never could and never will except the belief that I am in some way inferior to whites, or rather non-blacks. I am just as intelligent as they are and can excel just as they can.
I never could understand the hate. To be honest, it angers me still as I reflect upon how our people have been treated. As I read the John E. Harrisâ€™ â€œA Tradition of Myths and Stereotypesâ€, I started to encounter feelings I had not felt in a long time. I guess a lot of what I know or have heard about racism was repressed. I did not want their hate overtake me and cause me to be as ignorant and hateful as they have been.
As I read the assigned coursework, I began to discover that racism was not confined to America, yet it has been passed down to America as well as other places. I never realized that Africans had encountered this derogatory treatme