Twelve Years

I yearn for the day that I can accept my diploma. I have committed over 12 years of my life to furthering my education. As with any other teenager, I dread waking up in the early morning hours to begin the trek of yet another day in high school.

When I compare my struggle between wanting to sleep and getting an education with the struggle our African American citizens have faced through the years, I suddenly realize the immense blessing that I know as my life.

Whips cracked, ropes tied to trees, fists clenched. Slavery claimed victims by the thousands in the Civil Rights Era. Its main defense was slander. Tearing down the character of “colored” citizens, so much as to strip them of their identities. They no longer had a birthday or a name. No parents or birthright. Water fountains and bathrooms became objects of apartheid. African Americans were confined to certain occupations in society, organized like objects on a shelf. If your skin was the slightest bit brown, you were a designated field worker. Dignity was ripped at the seams because of the label that was forced upon our African American citizens. I continue to repeat the word “citizen” to emphasize what was so often forgotten during the most racially involved period of our nation. To emphasize the thirst for equality that was and is so prevalent. What does it truly take to be called an American “citizen”? Does it take some kind of card or passport? Once you learn the language and make it through border control, where is your place? Is that the only thing making you a citizen? A secure job and years’ worth of education.

The Oscars this year proved how far our nation has made it through the growth of justice and equity. Steve McQueen’s “12 Years a Slave” took home Best Picture along with numerous nominations. This film is based on a true story about Solomon Northup, an employed, married, black father living in New York, who gets abducted and sold into slavery. This film is not only a major motion picture, but a book. It serves as an anthem for all men and women living in the era of slavery. It shines a light on the faces that were once hidden by a cloth of hatred and tyranny.

Rosa Parks refused to hand her seat over on a public bus. This may have seemed like a small, rebellious act then. But, simple feats like this were influential factors that eventually led up to the revolution that Dr. Martin Luther King so boldly crafted.

Because of a thirst for justice and a hunger for belonging, America’s perception of African Americans has been vastly changed and molded into a closer reality of freedom instead of a dream unseen.

I have numerous African American friends, whom I dedicate this article to. I view them as my brothers and sisters, not inferior to myself. I salute their ancestors who have played a role in transforming racial paradigms throughout the threadwork of our nation.

Sadly, slavery is not nonexistent. It still comes out of the woodwork ever so often. But, using courage as a medium, African Americans throughout history and up to this day have painted a mark of equality on the canvas they know as America.

I always enjoy reading your comments via email. Thank you.