The Courage of Children: Boston and Beyond XXXIII

STACY JEAN JOSEPH
MELISSA MA AND NICOLE PRECOURT, TEACHERS
Salemwood School, Malden, MA
When I was younger, I didn’t really think about what courage actually meant
to me. I had a basic understanding of just having faith in myself. But believe it
or not, as I grew up, I realized that courage means to have strength throughout
difficult, dark times. When I was in second grade, I was going through a rough
time while figuring out who my real friends were, and I felt so crushed and
defeated. I wouldn’t stop crying. When my mom went to check on me, I told
her about the situation, and she gave me some advice to get myself together
and to pick myself back up.
At the beginning of second grade, my goal was to make new friends at
school. I saw this girl sitting all alone who didn’t have anyone to play with or
talk to. So, of course, I couldn’t let her sit all alone doing nothing! I didn’t
know at that moment that she was going to change my life. I went up to her
and said, “Hi, is it okay if I play with you?”
She turned her head to me and replied, “Sure.” We were playing as if we
had been besties for a long time. We became inseparable!
The next day, my dad dropped me off at school as usual. I was so excited to
play with this girl again. She was so nice! As I was walking into the
classroom with joy, I spotted her whispering to this other girl while looking
in my direction. Maybe she was looking at the person behind me, I thought. I
continued to walk with joy towards her. The other girl who was whispering
walked away. I didn’t care, and I asked my new friend, “Do you want to play
at recess again today?”
But she had a totally different mood than yesterday. She said back, “Um, idk...
but can I ask you a question?”
I replied back, “Sure,” thinking it was going to be some random question,
but no—it was a very serious question.
This “friend” was asking about my skin and why my skin complexion was
light. She asked me, “Aren’t you Black?” and I said, “Yeah… ?” She started
laughing with the friend she was whispering with because she didn’t believe
I was Black. She would even call me “white” and said I was “too white to be
Black.” Standing there in silence and in shock, I felt the tears running down
my cheeks. She made me hate my own skin because I was a little lighter than
“YOUR SKIN IS
BEAUTIFUL AS IT IS.”
my family. At this point, I wanted the day to end already. At the end of the
school day, when I got picked up by my dad, I tried hiding my tears
throughout the whole walk home. I didn’t want him to feel worried or mad,
because I thought he would talk to the school about it and get the girl in
trouble. I didn’t want that, so I kept quiet.
When we got home, I burst into the house, passing my mom without even
saying hi to her or telling her how my day was. Running to my room, I
jumped on my bed and started crying and thinking about the fact that my
friend was making fun of me about my skin. My mom came in and heard me
crying. She asked, “What’s wrong? You passed me in the kitchen without
saying hi.” I turned my head around with red eyes and tears all over my face.
I told her it was nothing, but she didn’t believe me. She said that she was my
mom, and I could tell her anything. I told her about what happened in
school. She responded, “Stacy, you shouldn’t let people talk bad about your
skin and who you are. Don’t let her get to you. Your skin is beautiful as it is.
Don’t mind her awful comments! You are not white, you are Black.” After
that, she gave me a much-needed hug.
My mom’s advice taught me a lot about life. When you hear negative words,
just remember to ignore them and keep moving forward. It was hard at first,
but I built up the courage to get myself together, ignore mean comments,
and make real friends.
THE COURAGE OF CHILDREN: BOSTON AND BEYOND
VOLUME XXXIII
48 49