Mike and I were walking home together as we always did, when a group of kids passed us by and one of the boys spit on Mike, calling him a "spic". I was so upset and angry because I didn't understand why they spit on him? I asked Mike, what "spic" meant? he just put his little head down and said "nothing, don't worry about it".
I just figured it was a name they used to call kids out West, because I had never heard that word before. The next week was more of the same tauntings coming from this particular group of children. I finally asked Mike to "please tell me what this was all about?" Mike finally in all of his 11 year old wisdom sat me down to tell me why they had spit on him and call him a spic.. "it is a name they are calling me because my mother is Mexican and my father is white....and because I am with you as my friend, they do not like it." "they spit on me because they do not think I am as good as they are because of my family." I was mortified!! I didn't understand how others could call someone a bad name because of the way they looked or who their mother or father was. I had much to learn. Why couldn't they see what I did....a wonderful, loving, kind and thoughtful boy? i believe that was my first experience at seeing "hate" in a deeper way than I had ever seen it before. It was such a deep level of hate and predjudice, even I couldn't grasp it at my young age. I only knew you didn't like people who killed others, who did "bad" things. Mike hadn't done anything to anybody......he wouldn't have hurt a flea.
The days dragged on with school and Mike and I's friendship flourished. A few months before school was to let out, my father called all of us kids into the living room to talk to us. His job was transferring him back to Ohio and we would be leaving in a week. Noooooooo!! Not now daddy!! I have friends and I cannot possibly leave them now!! Please oh pleaseeee daddy....make them let us stay here! My tears were hot on my cheeks as I ran from the room and threw myself on my bed in a sobbing heap! How could this happen to me now?? Didn't they know how much I "loved' my friend Mike? Don't they understand anything?? I told Mike later that day, and he was so upset he ran away from me and locked himself up in his house! He never came out again.....I was heartbroken. The day we moved, I wanted to tell him goodbye......but he wouldn't come outside and his father said he just cried and couldn't tell me goodbye. "Pleaseeeee tell him to come!" out I pleaded. Mike couldn't and wouldn't come outside to say goodbye to me and I was devastated! I ran to the car and curled up in the corner of the backseat to hide my disappointment and tears. It wasn't until years later that I understood the love he had for me, and why he couldn't say goodbye.
Well we moved back to Ohio and I adjusted in time to my new school, even though I felt my world had come crashing down around me. As time passed, I healed, but I never forgot Mike....it was a matter of the heart......and we hold those things we treasure the most, close to our hearts.....locked away in a place only we know how to open.....
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Blogs by 1stsignofspring:
| Matters of the heart.....Part ll |
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