All American

 All American

There is a void in our people. A gap in our society. A hole that is seemingly endless. The place where unity should be, there is a hole called prejudice. It will never be filled. Though war wages, and entire cities fall, the people will never learn.

It sure seems that way.

I live in a place where this truth is easy to believe. A place where I stick out like a sore thumb. Places like this aren't supposed to exist.

I live in the 'melting pot'. New York City. A place where anyone can be anything. Apparently, I'm a Ching-Chong. A Chink. Someone even had the nerve to call me a 'Japanigger'.

A big city like ours, you would think that the Asian population outnumbers the other racial diversities. We're only an eleven-point-eight percent.

There are only three of us. Three children in my school who are different. My mother calls us special. I am the only girl. People like Billy Sanders, a white boy two years older than me, call me a 'chapped whore'.

Regular people have regular nicknames. Just another reminder that I am something supposedly special.

I dream. Yes, Billy, I can do that too. I dream of having an army one day, one that will defeat the people we call 'white trash'. This time, it will win. My army will be made up of everyone who is willing, and no one will ever be discriminated.

Or better yet, I can build a colony. In the woods where no one will find us. Every race will be a citizen, and prejudice will not be found on the lips of the people.

Just folly. I know better than to believe in such fantastical thoughts. Such hope leads to great disdain. The thought itself is disdainful. So I put them in the back of my head, where no one will ever find them, no matter how hard they peer into my eyes.

No one wants to look into my eyes anyway.

When I walk through the halls of my school, the people part for me without thinking about it. Without even so much as glancing in my direction. Some do pay attention to me, though. I wish they hadn't.

But either way, I wouldn't leave this place. Too much to lose. My family is poor, and everyone knows it. My popularity: Wow.

I wear my short black hair in my hat, the one I wear everyday. My eyes are hidden behind my sister's glasses, the one's she doesn't need anymore. My coat is gray, with plenty of odd-colored stains that won't come off no matter how many times your hands bleed from scrubbing. I'm always wearing jeans and a sweater to cover my loose t-shirt. Sometimes I can borrow a sweater from my mom.

In other words, it doesn't even seem like I try.

My school itself is okay. The walls are grey, sometimes written on with marker or paint. The all-purpose room was cramped, and the people were deadly. But the classes are all easy. I made the honor roll this year, and last year, and all the years before.

Billy loves that about me.

By the time I make it to class, the hallways are empty. I walk extra slow, just to be in silence for a few moments before I walk into a room enveloped in noise. The metal handle to my english classroom is cold as I grasp it and pull.

It seems the entire class, including the teacher, turns to stare at me.

"Bailey Woo." The teacher glances up at the clock above the door, then fixes her gaze back to me. "Nice of you to join us."

"The feeling is mutual." I grumble as I walk to my desk. A laugh is heard, and the teacher gives them a glare.

"Next time you're late, you will be serving detention."