I lay awake in bed at night. My mother was downstairs thinking I was asleep. My father well... He was in jail. Wrongly accused of stealing a car.
I turned over, my brown hair becoming a tangled mess on my pillow. I hated thinking about my father and what had happened to him. He was innocent.
He had been walking home in the evening on his way home from work. An officer had just identified a stolen car when he saw my father walk past it. The officer immediately arrested my father.
There had been no witnesses and the cop swore that he had seen my father trying to break into the car. My father swore that he hadn't been trying to break into the car.
But what was the word of a black man against an officer.
My mother and I hadn't known anything. We had been sitting at the table waiting for my father to come home. Then the phone rang. My mother had got up picked it up.
A look of pure rage had crossed her face then she started shouting into the phone that my father was innocent. That they had no evidence and had wrongly accused him just cause he was different.
The people on the other end of the phone eventually hung up.
My mother stormed back across the kitchen to the table. I could see tears glistening behind her eyes. She took my hands and broke the news to me.
She told me how sorry she was that I would have to grow up in a world like this and that she would do anything to change the world. My mother and I sat there for a long time afterwards.
Not speaking or eating. The grandfather clock in the hallway struck twelve and my mother told me I better go to sleep.
So, here I am now. Swallowed up by the darkness of my room. Silent tears trickling down my cheeks at the injustice of the world. A take a deep breath trying to calm myself down.
Crying never got people anywhere.
A thought suddenly pops into my head. A stupid and ridiculous thought. But I thought 'What if no one could see me.' If everyone was blind no one could judge on looks.
Discrimination couldn't exist and... My father wouldn't be in jail.
There is beauty in the world that only eyes can see. But I would give them up in an instant if I no longer could judge someone subconsciously on their looks.
I didn't need the blue eyes of my fellow peers if no one could see my eyes were brown.
I didn't need the blonde hair of the popular girls if no one could see my hair was black.
I didn't need the smooth honey-coloured skin of teenaged girls if no one could see mine was black.
A smile spread across my tear-streaked face as I thought of a life where I could judge people for what they were not what they looked like.
Where I was free to judge people without clouding my belief with sight.
I might not be able to change the world, but I was crazy enough to try.