THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, February 23, 1996 TAG: 9602230039
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: Emily Letts, Kempsville High School
LENGTH: Medium: 100 lines
Runner up: Emily Letts, Kempsville High School, Virginia Beach
``Love sees no color'' and ``All one race'' urge the bumper stickers and T-shirts that adorn this divided world - a world divided over a verdict handed down to the white officers accused of beating a black man, and again over the verdict for a black man accused of killing a white woman.
At times the slogans seem like wishful thinking, and the future they promote, however desirable, seems unattainable.
But if we look beyond this apparent paradox of words and actions, we'll see that we truly have, in the past 30 years, made a great deal of progress in interracial relations. And there exists for 2025, 30 years from now, a great deal of potential for further advancement.
Thirty years ago, America was at the peak of its most tumultuous period of the Civil Rights Movement. Something like this might have taken place:
On a hot Southern summer afternoon, a little black girl stopped to quench her thirst at a water fountain in the park. This oasis had a label - ``COLORED'' - but the water was cool on her tongue.
Reaching up and pushing a dangling braid from her eyes, she caught sight of a little white boy at another fountain. His head cocked, he stared at her with wide, innocent blue eyes.
With a quick glance over his shoulder, he smiled at her and waved tentatively. Shyly, the little black girl smiled back at the friendly white boy. Water dripping down their chins, the children held one another in a pensive gaze.
``Oh, my!'' The horrified cry of a well-dressed white lady pierced their wondrous silence. The lady scurried over to the fountain and snatched up her son.
``Well, I never!'' she huffed, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the little black girl, who stared guiltily at the ground. The lady marched briskly away, dragging her reluctant son behind her.
The little boy turned back to the girl, his face apologetic, though he knew not what for. His mother gave an irate yank at his arm, and he stumbled obediently along.
The black girl watched after the white boy as he was hurried away from her. She couldn't understand it. The world, people were saying, was changing; people, she sensed, were not.
Her insight was valid. The Civil Rights Act of 1964 would soon bring down those signs at the fountains but would not bring an end to the duality in the eyes of those who drank from them.
It was out of fear that the mother had snatched her child away - the fear that drove a stake between the two races.
``If only,'' thought the little girl, ``she could share the `dream' of that nice man from Alabama.'' But even the passion of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was not enough to force the change that was long overdue.
Today, a scene like this could very well occur: In a tall office building on the spot where the park once stood, a young black woman returns her flip chart to its first page. ``And that, Mr. Chairman, concludes my presentation.''
``Well done!'' Her boss, a middle-aged white man, commends her genuinely, applauding. ``Excellent work.''
As she leaves the office, a young white man is waiting for her at the office door, his wide blue eyes full of anticipation.
``So . . . ?'' the man prompts.
``He loved it!'' she replies.
``Great work, partner,'' he says.
``Well, I couldn't have done it without you.''
``Yeah,'' says the white man to the black woman, ``we make a great team.''
On their way out to lunch, the white man pauses for a sip of water at the fountain in the lobby and holds down the button while the black woman takes a sip after him.
The two push through the revolving doors and step out into a world 30 years older and 30 years wiser than that of the children at the park fountains, a world in which the scales are teetering closer and closer to balanced, yet are still tipped by the weight of irrational fear and ignorant prejudice.
The road we have traveled to peaceful interracial relations has been rocky, and a great deal of road remains. To see its end we must pave the way with tolerance and genuine effort to understand each other.
We must admit our mistakes and learn from them. We must outgrow our racial hypersensitivity, which is a minefield to our interaction and come to accept constructive criticism from each other.
We must acknowledge our differences but must not dwell on them, realize our similarities and build on them. And above all we must shift our focus from our shortcomings to our triumphs, think not of the verdicts and the hate that divide us but of the water fountains and the hope that unite us.
As the past 30 years have shown us, we can change things for the better. If we can keep this progress in our sights, we can continue to push onward down the road, and the world 30 years hence can be a world where it matters not the color of the defendant, nor of the CEO, nor of the neighbor, nor of the person in line behind you at the water fountain, a world where ``love sees no color'' and we are ``all one race.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color photo
Letts
KEYWORDS: BLACK HISTORY MONTH ESSAY CONTEST by CNB