Diary Entry

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Black. That’s a term used to define me. Not strong, athletic, or even blue eyed! Black. That’s been used in so many ways to me that it has become derogatory in my mind. Sometimes, I feel like I have done something wrong, like I don’t deserve to be in the same school as the others.

The year is 1955. I’m Jennah, a 14 year old girl, living in Virginia. I have brown hair and blue eyes. I don’t consider myself pretty at all.

Well, this is my first entry in my new diary, given to me by my Mom for my 14th birthday.  I am so grateful to have her. My dad died many years ago, I never knew him. His owner had no use for him, so he killed him. Sometimes I wish I could have met him, but I know better than to have wishful thinking. That’s just going to get me disappointed.

I’m not smart, heck, I don’t know much at all, because I couldn’t go to a good school. I went to an all black kids school. We only were allowed the very old books, and the worst teachers, most of which knew about as much as we did about each subject.

                The government spends all their money for education on the all white schools.  I couldn’t go there. They only allowed us to desegregate about a year ago. Since I joined school with the white kids, and I knew absolutely nothing about anything school related, me and my family got teased, mocked, and shunned. Actually, all of us African Americans did. We were punished more and worse than the other kids. We often came home with bruises for saying “God bless you.”

Poems

D ifference is not a bad thing,

It just means we’re all unique

Very special, loved

Everything we do is changing the world

Remember that the good things are

Seeing your friends, the race

It doesn’t matter

Try to be understanding

You are equal!

Wouldn’t life be boring

If we were all the same?

That’s why I value diversity

America became

The best country

When we learned to accept

That treating others badly

Just isn’t right.

We are all equal

There’s not need to fight

I remember the days,

Back when I was a kid,

When it didn’t matter, your race

You were just another friend.

Now, as a teen,

It’s easy to see

We aren’t valuing

Diversity.

What does it matter,

The color of your skin,

Your religion

Your traditions

The language that you speak

It’s all the same to me.

Diversity.