Racism Creative Writing

5. I walked into the school like any other day. I entered the gym, sat down next to my friends, and talked about what we did over the weekend. I looked around the large room and a little ways down from us, I could hear a couple of guys snickering amongst themselves. "Catholics are stupid," one of them whispered. "Of course they are; half of them are Mexicans," his friend said while laughing.
Almost immediately, my face turned bright red and seemed so hot, it felt like it was on fire. It seemed like I just got punched in the stomach. Even if those words weren’t directed to me, they still pertained to who I was. I turned back around to my friends, and acted like nothing happened, but I was silent for the rest of the day. Little did I know that

I didn’t realize up until fourth grade that being a Hispanic, who is also Catholic was not very popular, especially in the south. From then on, I was constantly being reminded, and I would hear an ignorant comment almost every day. I would often try to ignore it by casually walking away. If someone asked me what my religion was, I would try to change the subject. Even though I was hearing the remarks on a daily basis, each time it would hurt even more. It lowered my self-esteem and I felt embarrassed of my beliefs and heritage. I never told my friends or even my family what was happening because I felt too ashamed to admit it. The problem kept on getting worse to where I couldn’t escape it any longer.
Everywhere I went, it felt like I was being judged and criticized by the color of my skin and what I believed in. When a comment was made, I would usually just let it slide and kept my mouth close. I bottled up all my emotions, which made me become less confident. As I got older, I learned that I should never let someone bring me down and I should always stand up for what I believe in. From then on, I became more proud of whom I