I’m walking down the street with my hand interlocked with Mama’s when I hear it. The word explodes as soon as it hits the air and I can feel Mama's blood boiling in her hand as she clenches my hand tighter and as her feet push against the ground, propelling us away as fast as possible. The word echoes down the street. I let it sink into my ear, feeling it dig its teeth into my skin. It settles in my brain, not to be forgotten. I whisper the word, letting it roll down my tongue, feeling it’s jagged edges. It leaves a bitter aftertaste.
I look up and see white people's faces everywhere glued to us. They say what a shame, couldn't imagine being you right now. Their stares bore into my soul as they look at me like a circus spectacle and for the first time I see the wall between me and them. I’m inside looking out. A second later they all stop staring, going on walking like they never saw the wall, but don’t they realize? Walls don't just fall like that.
Because once you build something, it’s a whole lot harder to knock it down.