Day 70 - Story from Your Childhood

Day 70 - Story from Your Childhood

When I was in 1st or 2nd grade, I used to love going to Chuck E. Cheese's to play my favorite arcade game, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Arcade Game (I love how everything in the 80's and 90's was, "The Arcade Game," "The Movie," "The Lunch Box," "The Flame Thrower" - Any Spaceballs fans out there?)  :)  

One weekend, my father and I went to Chuck E. Cheese's to eat some pizza and play some games.  As usual, I was glued to the TMNT arcade game.  Just two minutes after entering the restaurant, I was playing the "evolved reptilian crime-fighting" game.  Once our pizza was at our table, my dad summoned me to come and eat and I took the fastest break ever to eat pizza and get back to pursuing the villainous "Shredder."  After all, the Turtles weren't going to save April O'Neil themselves.  

While Dad was finishing up his pizza, I rushed back to video game with a handful of quarters tucked away in my pocket.  I approached the arcade console and dumped all of my quarters out on the dash.  I started playing and made it through level one without having to put in another quarter.  As I started level two, another boy approached the machine and stood next to me watching me play.  Halfway through the level, the boy darted off without a word or action.  I didn't think anything of it and continued playing.

A couple minutes after the boy had departed, he returned with his mother holding his hand.  His mother approached me quickly and yelled at me.  She accused me of stealing her son's quarters and "butting" into his game.  I vividly remember her face just a few inches in front of mine screaming my eyes out.

"You stole my son's quarters?!  How dare you!  How would you like it if someone pushed you aside and stole your quarters?!  Huh?!?!"

I was terrified.  I cried and tried to plead with the mother that the quarters were in fact mine and that I got them from my Dad.  She continued to yell at me.  I couldn't help but bolt around the mother with tears running down my face and leaving the quarters behind.  I told my father what happened and he jumped up to confront the situation.

After minutes of arguing with the mother in the middle of the restaurant and not getting anywhere, my Dad and I paid our bill and left.

I've reflected on this story recently because of some of the racial tension that our nation is facing currently.  See, the one thing I never mentioned in the story above is: the boy and the mother who accused me of stealing their quarters were both black.  

For some, this may shift the perspective of the story.  I certainly hope not.  I was fortunate to be raised in a family that valued the person, not just their background; the individual, not just the color of their skin.  So, only when I look back on this story do I see skin color.  I can honesty say that when I was a little boy, I was being screamed at by a mother, not a black mother.  I was being yelled at by another individual; an individual that had been misinformed by their son, not a black son.  Yes, these individuals were black and that's part of who they are, but they are individuals, just like me.  I think it's time we realized that we are all individuals.  We all have different backgrounds.  We all come from one "race."  The human race.

Sure, there are different cultures and that's what makes life wonderful.  We all have differences that make us unique and beautiful.  Sure, there are bad things that people do, but guess what?  That's part of the human race.  It's not the color of one's skin that determine's an individual's actions and choices.  

We've got to get past the labels...this goes for EVERYONE. And let's stop bashing one another.  After all, this isn't a video game.  This is real life.  EVERYONE deserves compassion and respect.  Let us remember Aretha Franklin's memorable lyrics, "RESPECT.  Find out what it means to me."

May we treasure our differences, learn about one another, and care for one another as members of one "race."  The human race.