A Heart-Breaking Letter to the Racist, White Man
Dear Porcelain Man,
I have decided to write you this letter, because you think you know me, but you only know such a small fraction of my life. I hope this letter can enable you to understand me better, and by doing so, maybe for once, I can become comfortable with who I am. You are like a light switch. In an instant, it can be turned on and the environment becomes fluorescent and clear. On the other hand, once it’s switched off, the room becomes dark. You can’t see anything, and you start to wiggle around to guess what things feel like when you truly don’t know what they really are. I wish you were on all the time, but you are off.
My skin is dark and coarse like the freshly turned earth and my eyes are dark as coal. You got that right. The soil my parents’ were born in isn’t the same soil you were brought into. You are correct. I am uneducated, crude, and my best-friends’ name is ‘Violence.’ You would like for the words’ that flow out of your mouth to be precise, but we are all wrong at some point. Therefore, I am sorry but you are wide of the mark with that statement.
When I was younger, every single emotional wound I had, I wanted it to be taken care of immediately. “ Take me to the hospital, I demand to see a doctor." Now, the pain feels like paper cuts. Paper cuts heal easily, but when you have too many small cuts, that’s a problem. Porcelain, I just want us to be equal. My level of pain externally is a 2/10. My internal pain is an 100000/10. I don’t want you to hurt. I just want you to understand me. I want you to stop watering me too much, and instead use your pain to plant seeds.
I am breathing this air. I am doing everything I can to be the best version of myself. The way my words flow out my mouth, are a reflection of my present and my parents’ past. I get confused at times, and my tongue twists as I try to not speak two languages at once. My parents’ wanted the best for me, and I am living proof that they did a fantastic job. From your view, my skyscraper isn’t as big as yours. I wish I could check out your skyscraper, and take a look. Maybe you can look at mine, and we can feed off eachothers’ interiors. I’m not allowed though, because you say I’m too funny. Porcelain, all jokes aside, I am just curious.
I don’t know if you will ever understand me. I want to understand you. I know where some of some my pain comes from, but from where does yours? Instead of laughing at me, let’s laugh together. Don’t scream at me, speak to me. Assumption has been shown in history to cause pain, destruction has been shown to kill. I have been trying to make you understand me, but everything I have tried, takes you further from me.
I can appreciate you, and that goes beyond your porcelain skin, I know you can bring brightness into this world. I want you to appreciate me beyond the color of my skin too. The moon and sun work together. The moon orbits the earth, and in turn the earth orbits the sun. We are alike.