The Wordsmith Blog™

I was just the way many from my part of the world was. I grew up to understand that I was different, and from a different race. This I never knew nor thought about, as everyone around me looked like me, spoke like me, even grew their hair like mine. I bothered to ask of who I was and why I didn't look like the others I saw in a journal and later my TV screen, in movies and soon, in person. These people were as bright as the sun itself, their skins glow with such radiance, they didn't look like they existed with I and my kin on this same planet earth. They looked alien to me, the more I starred, the more complex they appeared in my mind. I needed to know me, I wanted to know why I was like this, I longed to know what people like me were called. Soon, I learnt it was black, and my race os called "The Black Race". Black, why black? Is it just and issue of the colour of my skin or more? This I sought to know, and the following I learnt and some others, I learnt to unlea