Three months ago, escaping the city and getting away from the hustle and bustle was a choice. One that my husband and I would choose over and over if we had the option. A weekend getaway was relaxing, peaceful, and allowed us quality time together, without our children screaming and running throughout the house. Three months ago, we went on our last weekend getaway for who knows how long, and we would do just about anything to do it again.
There were cracks in the walls along the burgundy bathroom ceiling and zigzagged down to the cabinet mirror. The mirror needed wiping as it was disgustingly smeared and perhaps it was smeared with random, sweaty hands. Her eyeliner and mascara were smudged and her coily hair had run dry. The girl was exhausted and her jaw ached. In fact, her legs along with her thighs terribly throbbed, and her back felt agonizing. Her hazel gleaming eyes were the most alluring, but exotic feature; let alone the built curvy hips and full lips she possessed. Chocolate freckles laid in abundance spreading across the bridge of her nose to her brassy cheeks. The eye shadow she wore sweated off, however, the colors didn’t compliment her to begin with. She let out a deep sorrowful sigh. Before leaving the bathroom and back to her client, she took one last look in the mirror. What did she see in her reflection; a dirty girl or a soulless being?
I am a product of a mixed race Jamaican dad, and a mother with original Arawak Jamaican Indian blood running through her veins. I move amongst all levels of society, consisting of all races. I don't fake, I create my space. Racism for me boils down to a level of misunderstanding and lack of knowledge of one's culture and struggles. It's bred out of an ignorance for others that look and think different.
Life events bring out the best in people and sometimes during busy, stressful times or simply in the course of an average day, people’s efforts, the everyday actions of getting through a day, remain unnoticed. Why? Because we are trying to survive.