Not many people know it, but I was raised in the suburbs of Chicago, Illinois. When I was younger, my family lived in a nice house in a nice neighborhood, and I attended a fairly large school with many different types of kids. Everyone was different and that's just the way it was.
However, when I was fifteen, my mother made up her mind to move to South Carolina. Since my parents had been separated for a while, I decided that it was the best decision to go with her and start fresh in a new place. Little did I know that starting a new chapter in my life in the South would forever change the way I viewed my life.
With the recent controversy about the Charleston shooting, the removal of the Confederate Flag from South Carolina's Capitol building, and continuous debate of the symbolism of other monuments across the nation, I have seen the opinions of both feuding sides of the racial argument.
I was raised in a place and time when the colors of people's skin did not matter. I was always taught that respect was a right that every person had, no matter what they believed in or who they were. I never questioned that fact growing up and I still do not question it now. But I wonder when everyone else began to start questioning that simple fact--the one we seem to overlook, every time we see a riot on television, or vandalism and crime ramp up in the streets of cities like Ferguson or Baltimore.
When did we forget that we all share similar qualities? Or that we all breathe the same air? I have learned through many years of observation and care that you cannot judge a person for what they believe. But I often wonder if it is possible to be upset with another person because they do not understand compassion and forgiveness the way you do.
Charleston, the city in which I found so much solace and love, came under attack with the cruel intentions of a person who wanted to cause pain and suffering through violence. My heart was broken with the thought that my city could become the new target of racial outrage and continuous violence. However, just like this magnificent city showed me when I first began my journey there, it once again gave me hope by the way its citizens handled tragedy. Immediately I was jolted back to the days of my childhood when things were simple because everyone I knew got along regardless of their skin color or beliefs.
We forget that our actions today help influence the next generation of political activists, scientists, astronauts, and teachers. We should embrace the idea of each other instead of driving a wedge in the same place that landed us in the position of violence.
My views changed when I moved to the South, but for me it wasn’t in a negative way. It was more positive that I could imagine.
