White people come into our neighborhood and constantly look at us as if we are beings from another planet. We breathe the same way they do, yet they look at us as if we are dangerous people. I decided to take a walk through a white neighborhood to see their style of living. They do not live any different from us. As I was walking down the street, I seen some beautiful houses. I can only wish my house on Mango street was as beautiful as some of these houses. Other than that, there was nothing else that really impressed me. They have no other reason to look down on us. .
One house in particular caught my attention. I was in awe over how many windows it had. There were two children in front playing on swings. They were really enjoying themselves. One child was swinging so high into the air that she fell and hurt her arm. The sound of her caterwaul made it clear she was in severe pain. I quickly rushed to her aid and tried to keep her calm while her older sister went to get her mother. When the mother came down she quickly pushed me aside. She assumed I was the one who hurt her child. She castigated against me. She quickly called the police and told them I was the cause of her childs injury. She then described the clothes I was wearing and told them I was not from her neighborhood. I quickly ran back to mango street. I was veru upset about the situation. She never bothered to ask how her child got hurt. She just assumed it was I who caused her daughter harm. She was a pompous person, who like many others, look down on people not of their race and financial status. For now, I am content with staying on Mango Street. .
