I saw you.
It was your first day of school, you looked so shy and vulnerable.
You were looking for something, and for a brief moment, our eyes met…
I looked away.
You went slowly, walking towards the group of kids, and once there you said:
“Hi, may I play with you?”.
The girl with curly brown hair looked at you and responded: “No, because you’re black".
I saw your eyes tearing, and your smile breaking as you ran away, with no more words to say.
I’m sure you didn’t understand what that really meant, but one thing was imprinted in your mind: “black isn’t good, and I’m black, so I’m no good”.
I wish I would have had the courage to defend you, or at least give you the support that you needed.
I could have told you that people from different countries have different skin tones, and the color of your skin is beautiful, and it doesn’t define you as a person, or who you’ll be.
I should have given you a hug, and whispered at your ear that everything would be fine, that you were perfect and good enough just as you are…and that I was, and would always, be there for you.
You could always play with me, and you would never have to feel like this again.
I saw you, and I didn’t do anything.
I saw you, and I left you there, isolated and alone.
I saw you, and you never asked anyone to play again.