There is no escaping racial issues
when one is an American. It is in our history, from the days of slavery,
and a terrible civil war was fought over the matter. I grew up in
Washington D.C. during the days of the civil rights movement, and
experienced forced de-segregation at my high-school. Black inner city
kids were bussed to schools away from their neighborhoods, and in my sophomore year my classmates went from 95%
white to more like 60%. I found that the experience of meeting the African-American youth added greatly to my
education—not in a scholastic way, but rather a social one.
Back in 2008, when I had determined to
leave the familiar comforts of my life and begin a year-long solo
sojourn around the world, I chose to go first to Belize, a country on
the northeastern coast of Central America. It is the only country in
the area that has English as the official language, and is primarily
black. And I wanted to live in a black town, so I chose Dangriga.
Perhaps I thought that this would awaken me for what was ahead—all
the cultural surprises, and experiencing being a minority.
As an adventurer, pressing beyond boundaries
and exploring outside of comfort zones is essential to the
experience. From the start, when I first set foot in Belize and
realized I was in a new world with different rules and scenery, I
began a shift of consciousness, and instead of
trying to hold on to what my comforts were, I let the the surprising events unfold
and decided to live in the unfolding drama, calling life THE DREAM.
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