Skin


It never felt hard to fake a smile, it came almost automatically to me. I never noticed when I would fake it just like how I never noticed the color of my skin. It was a color my mom would idealize as in Africa the lighter the skin the prettier you were. So with her panther-like complexion she admired me which left me happy with my identity.  As for my father he loved my mothers skin and loved me for being a combination of him and her. I never noticed my skin until I began to be treated differently for it, I would try to pinpoint what it was. I’d say things like, “maybe it was my non-European features.” Or maybe it was my curly hair. During middle school I was severely bullied, where my identity felt as if it was just my skin. When I moved away from that environment I began slowly forget the harsh comments that were made. Although the micro aggression would sometimes appear it wouldn’t affect me. Up until my trip to Switzerland where I was called the n word multiple times by multiple people, but this time it was with my friends the people I trusted the world with but yet not a single one stood up for me and so as that word was being said towards me it felt as if my entire world was crumbling. Though I forgot because we are taught to forget to move on. So a year went by I let go of one of those friendships and I moved on. Up until it was brought up again this year, I don’t know if it was something in the air or it was my body reprocessing it but it broke me. I cried, I cried and cried. And I began to feel as if I was 12 years old again, on my knees begging and praying to god asking him why he would create me like this with tears that could fill the atlantic ocean. As I woke up the first thing I noticed was not the acne on my face or the puffiness of my eyelids, it was my skin color. I felt as if it was truly the only thing people saw me for. Up until now I cannot say I have moved on. I still cry from time to time wondering why I was born this way. But I am slowly trying to forget and move on as what else am I supposed to do?

PC: Google

Kevin Ware

There are no other words I feel comfortable putting in this title. I’m not going to show you guys the video or anything like that. This is mainly about how hard an athlete has to work to reach his goals. Kevin Ware is no different than anyone in the sense that he worked hard at what he loved. He loved basketball and because of what happened yesterday, he can probably never play again.

By now, just about everyone knows about the Kevin Ware incident. He jumped up to block a shot and while landing, his leg crumpled in a number of spots. According to reports, his tibia went through his skin and was exposed. This goes down as possibly one of the most gruesome injuries in the history of sports. It’s right up there with Joe Theismann.

I don’t want to talk about it too much. But what I do want to point out is something I saw on Facebook the other day. There was a picture by Adidas posted on their wall, asking the public “Is there anyone on YOUR team that brings out the best in you?”. I immediately started thinking about players I had competed with at any given time. I thought of a few, but after this moment in the game yesterday, I undoubtedly believe that Ware is one of the most inspirational players I’ve ever seen.

He spoke to his coach Rick Pitino and some of his teammates as he was being tied to the stretcher. “Just win the game” he said to his teammates.

A man who is laying on the ground with part of his bone out of his skin still tries to rally his teammates. And it worked.

Louisville won by 22 points and buried Duke. It was inspirational, and I wish Kevin Ware the very best.