Hate,  a word used so loosely in today’s world. Hate is a word used by a child after they eat something they do not like. Or maybe used by an angry teenager whose parents won’t let them go to a mall with their friends due to their grades. However when I think of the word hate and how loosely us as a society use the word; I begin to think what actual hatred, I mean the type of hatred that can hurt, I’ve experienced throughout my life and what I believe it has done for me.

The type of hate I experience in life usually consists of racism, discrimination, assumption,  and prejudice. Growing up as a young male that identifies as African American with a single white mother that has to work multiple jobs to support  her family creates a lot of opening for people to make negative comments. I remember walking into stores and malls, as a child then seeing people's strange faces as if something was so weird about a mom and her toddler. I didn’t make the connection that some individuals were racist until one day someone told, not asked my mother how great it was that she would adopt a child from Africa. Now even though I was little I can distinctly remember the little smirk on the stranger's face. It was almost as if she new my mother gave birth to me and was intentionally attempting to harm us. I can’t remember what happened in detail, but I do remember the emotion my mom felt and how I carried that on with me today. The funny thing is my mom can’t remember a thing...

After this happened I began to pick up little bits of information on why people acted in this way. My cousin always told me I was an observant little devil. I would always listen to rap, and watch the news and begin to understand what the media portrayed young black people as such a negative race. My favorite show when I was little was “Fat Albert”. I could even see the differences of race in cartoons. Images on the news and reality shows on TV served as a daily reminder that all black people from certain areas are seen as illiterate, and hood. The funniest thing is that I lived with the white side of my family, and still received the same negativity that any other black male would get. I mean I also lived in the most suburban area, I am the only black person in my neighborhood. I never took any of it negatively though. It motivated me to prove people wrong. I wanted to be like Martin Luther King JR, I wanted to be a voice for the voiceless. I remember listening MLK’s speech everyday thinking that one day I will make change.

As a kid in middle school I was pretty emotional I cried every day. I used to be so confused on why somebody had to treat me differently for what I looked like. I’m a boy scout and we sell popcorn for fundraising, people won’t buy from me, but they will buy from other white scouts. It is truly baffling how hate can alter people’s opinion before they even get to know a person.  Now that I’m older my age also doesn’t help the situation, a 17 year old black kid uh-oh I better cross to the other side of the street before he mugs me. I was no longer sad when things like this happened, because I was able to mature and learn that hate is just there, and instead of letting defeat me I used it to become a new person. Even if  it is absurd how hate is such a battle for me growing up.

I am who I am now due to everything I’ve experienced in life, and I always like to think that someone has it worse. So I take Hate and use it to be better. I believe in hate, because throughout life hate motivates me to persevere, and be all I can be in life.