Perspective

(Child)

I was walking around the mall with my mommy who kept stopping at every store we passed. She would go in and out without buying a thing. While she kept looking and looking all I could think about was the toy store.

I wanted to get there already, but no, mom had to park far across from the store. She said it would be a good work out for her, walking all the way to it I mean. Honestly, I just thought it was a huge waste of time.

As we got closer and closer to the toy store my mom suddenly stopped, this time for a different reason. A loud beeping sound rang in my ears, it made my head hurt real bad. The sound came from right in front of a store. There were two men standing by the store, there was a cop too.

The men were just standing there, one was white like me and the other one was black. The cop looked at the men and told the white one he could go and he ran faster than me on Christmas morning.

Then the officer took a bag from the black man in a really mean way – kind of like my sister does when I take her stuff. I didn’t really get it, but then again I didn’t get most things.

The officer pulled everything out and then patted the man. It was really weird and I didn’t really understand why we were looking at this. I looked at the black man as he got something from his pocket.

The cop was reaching for a little black stick on his belt while the man finished searching in his pocket. It was a piece of paper, he showed it to the cop and then he finally let him go.

Once the cop left, I looked at my mommy who was yanking my arm, along with me, toward the toy store. I let go of my mom’s hand and confused I asked her why the cop had only stopped the dark man and not the white one.

She told me that is was because of something called “discriminitation, whatever that is. I’d never heard that word before, it was long and weird sounding. It didn’t sound like nothing good. It didn’t look good neither.

Anyway, my mommy’s answer only confused me more, but I didn’t ask her any more questions. At this point the only thing on my mind were the toys!

As I looked around at all the cool and awesome stuff I wanted, I saw the white man. He looked nervous as he reached for something and put it in a large bag. Why did he do that? Oh no! Didn’t he know takin’ stuff that isn’t yours is wrong? My mommy taught me that, but I guess his didn’t.

I told my mommy what I’d seen, I hoped she would go over there and tell him that it was wrong. But that’s not what my mommy did. She went over to a cop and told him what I’d seen. The cop took the white man away because I guess he didn’t have the paper the other man had, plus I’d seen him take the toy without asking and that for sure was bad.

I watched as they took the man away, I was confused. Why where they taking him this time and not when he was with the black man? Mommy kept using weird words like “rakecism”, “prejudy” and “discriminitation”. Mommy talked weird. I was lost. Oh well, I guess it’s just another thing I’ll understand some day, when I’m older. At least that’s what mommy says.

(Adult)

A deep desperation filled me as I walked down the brightly lit corridors of the mall. A tight crushing feeling took over my right hand which was trapped in the iron-like grip of my mother’s soft and delicate hand.

Beneath me, my legs began to quiver and an abominable pain invaded my feet with each step I took. We had been walking for quite some time now since my mother had chosen to park at an atrocious distance from our final destination.

The aching in my feet intensified every time my mother would divert from our path, elongating our journey. My mother and I would snake through the clusters of people and we would enter each and every store. With every store we encountered my mother repeated the same pattern that I would eventually learn and duplicate in my own life.

She would approach every rack, contemplate an item for what felt like an eternity and eventually return it to its place. I had always thought that she was being cheap, but the truth – which I learned years later – was that we had been struggling economically and my mother had saved her money that day just to get me a new toy.

I could see it now, the bright red contrasting with the blandness of the neutral colors that surrounded the toy store. I could almost smell the plastic, hear the tantrums of the children whose parents dared to utter the forbidden (for us, at least) phrase of “we can look but we are not buying anything.”

The toys that were being showcased would call out to me, I was so close! As my pace quickened my mother dragged behind me as I pulled her along with me. At last, the treasure was almost mine!

Suddenly, I felt a harsh tug on my arm as my mother pulled me back. A sharp loud ringing exploded near us and the sound inundated my head as a tedious pounding feeling made its way to my temples. I searched near and far for the source of the noise and found it a few feet away at the entrance of a store.

Two men stood in front of the store where one of them had set off the anti-theft alarm. A crowd began to form around us. They all looked at the two men, one was Caucasian and the other African American.

Behind me the multitude whispered and people pushed and shoved trying to get a better look at the scenario. My mother held me close to her to ensure that I would not get lost among the crowd. The crowd then split as a police officer approached the store.

Upon reaching the crime scene the cop initially drew close to the white man whom without a question was let go. The man sprinted off and eventually seemed to evanescence into the atmosphere. The officer came closer to the black man and with unnecessary brute force yanked a bag from his hand.

The cop hastily rummaged through the contents of the shopping bag, looking for a security tag or some proof of the crime. When he found none he frisked the man, perhaps looking for a weapon or to see if the stolen goods were on him. The extensive search came up empty.

The black man then put his left hand into his pocket and reached for something. The cop's hand nervously trembled as it went to reach for the baton strapped to his hips. Out of the pocket came a receipt, a proof of purchase – and innocence. Reluctantly, the cop had to let him go, and in the process he looked like a fool.

Everyone went on as if nothing had happened, but I knew something was wrong. However, like everyone else, we went on our way, my thoughts drifting from the men to the Holy Grail which now stood before me. As I browsed through the newest selections, carefully examining every detail of the toys, something caught my eye.

The white man from the other store was now here. He looked just as apprehensive, suspicious, and guilty as before. His trembling hand reached for one of the toys on the shelf and in one swift movement the toy went from the shelf to the large bag he carried.

As the naïve child I was, I relayed what I’d seen to my mother who would then retell the story to a nearby officer. My ingenuity helped catch the perpetrator of the thefts but my mind continued to ponder on why the man had not been stopped and searched back at the other store.

That day I learned about prejudice, discrimination and racism.

These concepts were foreign to me, not only because of my age but because of my privileged state as a white child. I would never have to encounter the type of situation the black man did. That day marked a milestone in my life. That day is what eventually made me decide to become a police officer.

#childhood #memory #adult #perspective #shift #shortstory