Out of Africa

I grew up in a small town outside of Toronto, where it was pretty white washed. I think there were Asian kids in my grade school but I don't remember them [ironic]. The big deal was when the first black kids started school with us right after they moved here from Africa. Even though I hadn't seen too many visible minorities before this, it didn't phase me, in fact I became friends with the girl in my grade/class who I witnessed face racism square in the face.

I'm fairly certain we all know where racism stems from, fear and ignorance. Children may have a less clouded view of the world but they still hold onto the values and views of their parents and this is especially evident on the playground. The playground is also where I learned the power of words and how they can hurt. At first they hurt the person we use them on, then they hurt the user. Specific details escape me today but I do remember that I repeated seemingly innocent words spoken by someone else which hurt my new friend. In return she slapped me across the face.

I believe we worked out what happened because we stayed friends, that is until puberty hit and then the girls didn't want any boys spending as much time with them as I had been. Even though we ran in different circles, we stayed casual friends in high school and I was always proud of her accomplishments; honour role, athletics, popularity. As with any small town, once you graduate you move on and lose touch with the friends who were on the outside of your chore group but I was surprised to see her on the TTC some ten years later.

Having grown into my adult skin a little more, I was able to initiate a conversation and I remember to this day because I now possessed the power of words and was able to use them more maturely. After explaining what I was doing for work I promptly asked what she was doing, because she was such an accomplished student and athlete. She kind of danced around the subject saying that she was between projects at the moment to which I asked if she was unemployed. 'I'm a film-maker' was her explanation at which point I reiterated, 'so you're unemployed'. We laughed. We parted ways. If we met again I would be able to say that I am now between projects.

P.S. My first year after high school was spent attending George Brown College where I was the visible minority to an 80% black student body. Didn't stop me from dressing like a NKOTB.