The Color of Love: A Story Poem About My Growing Up Amidst Prejudice

I was born in prejudice

in 1957

and my world was black and white;

No color

on faces other than rosy cheeks

blushing

from the icy mountain wind.

I never saw

the black ones,

for they lived in one small section of town called

"N" town;

That was what everybody called it, only they said the

bad name;

I know it's a bad name

now;

Back then it was just a part of my life…it was

their name,

just like my name is

human;

Their name was something else in

that town.

I never saw them in town

back then;

It was just understood that they

stay put

in their shanties with yards where no green grass grew;

No color

for them either.

No color came to school

or the churches where we prayed;

I used to wonder if there were children

in those shanties they had made.

I used to wonder if they laughed

or had a Christmas tree;

Did they belong to Jesus too

or was Jesus just for me?

It never made much sense

to a little girl like me;

I prayed and obeyed

though I didn't understand

most of what I would see.

I just accepted what I was told

until

I was around 12 years old,

starting

a new school up north, nervous and

so shy.

The school was so big, and the

black ones

even came to that school.

Nobody wanted to be

my friend;

"She's just a hillbilly," I would hear

over and over again

as tears

rolled down my face and

I tried

so hard to be brave.

One day at lunch as I sat

alone;

A black girl came and sat

by me;

Side by side, black and white for the

first time…

I felt nervous, I'm ashamed to say…but

she smiled

and was so kind to me.

She seemed to understand how

alone

I was feeling, how

different

I was feeling, and we became

best friends.

I asked mom and dad if a friend could

sleep over;

Enthusiastically they agreed.

I forgot

to tell them my friend was black.

To me

she was just my friend, filled with color and

light.

She rode the bus home with me the very

next day;

We were talking and laughing, so

excited;

I wanted to show her my

new guitar

that I hoped to learn how to play.

I opened the door and we went

inside

of that house filled with prejudice,

(somehow I'd forgotten)…

but I saw the look on their faces

that day;

No words of welcome for the one who had

welcomed me.

"Out!" he yelled. "No 'N' is allowed in this house

not now…not ever,

and he said the word…that horrible word,

and I wanted

to die…my heart was aching for

my friend.

I now knew what real hate was and I wanted it

to end;

I pleaded and begged him to let her

stay,

but he said no and no longer did she want to;

Our friendship ended

that day.

Her daddy saw us drive up and drop her off

without

a single word;

My heart was breaking and I made a vow that

prejudice

would never enter this heart

of mine

or one day touch the hearts of

my children.

No color came to school

or the churches where we prayed;

I used to wonder if there were children

in those shanties they had made.

I used to wonder if they laughed

or had a Christmas tree;

Did they belong to Jesus too

or was Jesus just for me?

It never made much sense

to a little girl like me;

I prayed and obeyed

though I didn't understand

half of what I would see.

Now the veil is lifted

and my eyes are open wide;

I no longer hide behind

prejudice and lies;

I speak the truth loudly

and stomp on the hate;

Love is a gift

for everyone

and it is never too late;

Love is one color

That colors the world

Love will determine our fate.