To be young again.

When I was about three or four, I started taking dance classes. There were other little girls in my class, some in which were African American. Obviously being this young, I was not really exposed to the world yet, so I only really knew of Caucasian people. It's funny how we sometimes remember certain things about our childhood, and the thoughts that we had, because I perfectly remember my thoughts about African Americans. In my mind I had an explanation for the difference in skin color, I swear at that time I assumed that skin color was just something that naturally changed with age. I assumed that since I was white, that when I was older, I would turn black. And, I assumed that my parents, (being white) were black when they were children. I know it seems like a really weird concept to comprehend, or accept now, but at the time, it was just what made perfect sense to me. I didn't even question it. I don't really remember ever telling anyone about my theory though, so I don't know when I stopped believing it. To me, this is proof that the idea of race is without a doubt something that is drilled into our heads by society. Of course, we do naturally notice the difference in skin color, but we would never relate any difference in character to something as simple as color. The knowledge of "race" is not something we are born with. It seems so obvious, but sometimes the judgements we associate to color are so naturally within us, that you would almost swear we are in fact born with these biases. However, we are not. Race is constructed. I sometimes wonder what or who made me aware of the false belief that blacks and whites were different. I wish I was still as innocent as I was then.