You demonize me based off the color of my skin. You tell me I am in power, therefore it's okay. You call me names and you tell me I can't do anything you do or like anything you like--but I can't call you names (I wouldn't want to, it's just rude) and it's okay if you like what I like or do what I do. You rant about me, you group me together. You do the same thing to me that has been done to you and you are angry at what has been done to you but you care not about me. You left vision blind us from the fact that we are all human: somehow the sins of people who are the same color as me are something that I am guilty of. You preach about how proud you are to be who you are and look how you do--but I cannot. You act as if I should be ashamed of something I cannot change. I like the way I look, and I like the color of my skin. I think I am beautiful, in my own way. I do not see sin when I see skin. But you--to you, I am the enemy. To you--because of my color--I could never be a friend.