“Jesus loves the
little children. All the children of the world.
Red and yellow,
black and white they are precious in his sight.
Jesus loves the
little children of the world.”
There is a
picture floating around on a couple of teacher buddies’ phones of three hands:
two rights and a left. The first one is of a warm, rich, soft brown. The middle
one is white like milk. The last is deep, rich, dark brown. I’ll give you one
guess who’s the middle one is.
The
difference of my skin is something that has fascinated young children, older
colleagues, and even patrons and matrons. I’ve had kids giggle as they hold my
hand when the realization of differences dawns on them. They like flipping over
my hand so my even whiter palm can be compared to theirs. Usually this leads to
their buddies coming over to see what their skin looks like compared to mine.
It isn’t that much different with my teacher friends. One shook my hand,
another pointed out the stark difference between and soon my hand was being
drug around for comparisons and laughter.
When I
first came here, I loved the way others’ skin looked against mine in a hand
shake. I would focus on the difference. Now, I look at the face more. I see the
differences that make an individual unique. The crinkles by the eye to tell me
when sarcasm is happening. The joy of seeing a friend.
Sometimes
it is hard being the only one who is so starkly different. Sometimes I just
want to blend into invisibility like I often was in the States. Sometimes I
wish my tan, which was lost during rainy season, would come back stronger than
ever. But most times I don’t realize my difference. I don’t realize others’
differences.
DC Talk
paints the perfect picture of how I am experiencing life in their song “Colored
People.” As they state in their
song “Pardon me, your epidermis is showing itself. I couldn’t help but note
your shade of melanin. I tip my hat to the colorful arrangement ‘cuz I see the
beauty in the tones of our skins.” There is beauty in the diversity if one
takes the moment to recognize and appreciate it. When I first came to site, I
admit that many of the children and adults looked vaguely the same to me. It
was hard to learn names and keep people straight. But now, now I see the beauty
of each person.
The song
goes on to say “We got to come together and thank the Maker of us all. We’re
colored people and we live in a tainted place. We’re colored people and they
call us the human race.” Discrimination, harassment and stigmas have become all
too familiar this year. My skin points me out as different. I often have to
haggle down “forengi prices” to what the price of an item should be. But I know
that Ethiopians in America are probably going through similar things, as they
try to master a foreign language to fit into a new culture. It doesn’t take
long to see this separation between Americans through the news reports.
Individually we are different, collectively we are the human race and “by God’s
design we are a skin kaleidoscope…Aren’t we all human after all?” Treating each
other with equality is what “loving your neighbor” is all about.
“Well a day
in the shoes of a colored blind man should make it easy for you to see that
these diverse tones do more then cover bones as a part of our anatomy.” I wish
this wasn’t true. I wish I could type that there is perfect equality and
respect everywhere. That outer appearance doesn’t change the way people act
towards each other. In some places that equality has been achieved. In other
places, there is room for change.
There were
five adorable gigglely girls playing in the compound earlier today. All of them
under the age of five. Two of them are sisters a couple years apart. In the
afternoon sun their laughter rang out clear and pure. Their colorful dresses
bright and beautiful against the range of dark skin shades. Their plastic shoes
clicking gently as we played tag and other games. They could care less about my
skin color. They don’t care that I can only pick up pieces of their
conversations. We can still have fun. We can still be friends. They can fall
off the ledge and trust that I will catch them in a twirl.
Jesus loves
all the children. The young ones that wiggle out of their mom’s arms to come get
a twirl. The older ones that will sit in my classes and clubs this year. My
peers who have passion in all other subjects. My landmom who I love like a
grandma. The strangers and the friends. Color is beautiful. It takes all of
them to show life. God loves all His creation through their stunning beautiful
unique-ness. I’m glad I can see and learn that difference.
“See you had no choice which day you would be born. Or the color of your skin or what
planet you’d be on. Would your mind be strong? Would your eyes be blue or
brown? Whether Daddy would be rich or if Mama stuck around at all. So if you
find yourself in a better place. You can’t look down on the frown of the
other’s guys face. You gotta stoop down low look him square in the eye and get
a funny feeling you just might be dealing with the face of Christ.” Chris Rice Face of Christ
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