In school, I learned to identify myself as an outsider before I accepted that world as mine, that particular future and state of mine as my own. Coming from a country where everyone identifies themselves as more of a culture than a race, becoming part of a race and being forced to 'grow up' was life-altering. Being thrown into a world where one color has more opportunity than another because of pre-determining factors seemed almost comical to me. In class, I would frequently ask how that was possible. Haitians pride themselves in knowing that they are rebellious beings. If a way was not paved for them, they would pave it themselves. How can many of the minorities or the oppressed allow that to happen? Why don't they rage and roar, protest, speak louder, make sure to be heard? I can say that these specific questions are the ones I ask now. Back then my questions would inflict more pain on the minorities, albeit not intentionally. I would ask, "Why must we play the blame game? Surely you can't say one race pointed a gun in another's head and told them to commit these acts?" I know now that the answer lies in the history of the people. There is no blame game but the pain inflicted towards the centuries have slowly simmered and is now ready to boil over the people's lives. In class and in that playground, I have learned to speak a certain way, see the world through their lenses and understand what it truly means to take part of a race and a culture. I could not be more grateful.