Uproar Against Injustice This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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   Sometimes I stay awake at night, and sift through my brain. I wonder what this world is coming to. Why do people act the way they do? And why, if God really exists, is she allowing us to go around killing ourselves? The more I ponder our forlorn predicament, the closer I come to tears, for I know there is absolutely no way we can start over. There is no way we can forget our past. The past is what is making our future, no matter how bleak it may seem.

Racism is an abhorrent thing, and many of my black brothers and sister are content to sit back and allow it to be the root of all their problems. They allow it to be the reason they are hopelessly stuck in the ghetto with three kids and another on the way. The poor whites are pleased to stay in their economic stations, content to blame their problems on the minorities who have stolen their jobs through affirmative action. People have suddenly become extremely intolerant, or maybe they always were, but I was just too naive and blind to realize it. An interracial couple can't walk down a residential street together without someone snickering at their newfound love. A white person can't wear a pair of baggy Kari-Kani jeans without being called a traitor to their race. A black person can't pierce their eyebrows, and dye their hair purple without being called a freak. When did we become so biased, I wonder. When were these seeds of discontent sown? When Jesus died, or when Satan took over his throne? ?


This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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