Toughen Up, Buttercup, Racism Hurts

Or how to build a shell to protect yourself

Photo by Floraf on Unsplash

I remember the first time I experienced racism. I was 9 years old, just a child. I had moved to a new country, to a new school. I was excited, and I wanted to make new friends.

I was ready for new friends, and then, at the playground during recess, the other white kids kept pointing at me and giggling. They were making monkey s…