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Black And Cuban Blood Runs Through My Veins Essay

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There was once a time when I was naïve about stereotyping and racism. Up until my teenage years, the notorious monsters had been elusive. Then one weekend, I came face-to-face with the disgusting monsters, rearing their hateful heads; capable of momentarily depleting love within a blink of the eye. Because of my shocking encounter, I am now cognizant of the ignorance that persists in the world. A valuable yet life-changing lesson in racism and the effects of stereotyping influenced the way I approach the world today. However, still optimistic and waiting impatiently for the day when the human race becomes accepting of one another… the hurtful lessons learned will always remain. Jamaican and Cuban blood runs through my veins. My brothers, sisters, and I jokingly refer to our family as the United Nations, in essences our entire family 's comprised of people from various ethnicities. Staten Island, New York, born and raised, a place known to New Yorkers for being racist. The population is predominantly Caucasian, and the minorities inhabit approximately one-third of the island, growing up my parents mentioned stories about particular areas in which black children weren 't welcomed. Young and fearless, I didn 't pay these stories much attention, not to mention I didn 't have a reason to frequent said areas. By the same token, Rosebank where I lived, a predominately White neighborhood, which was becoming increasingly diverse in cultures as the decades passed.

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