When I Was A Little Girl

 

By Stella Smith

Contributing Writer

 

 

When I was a little girl, I was born into segregation. I was not allowed to go to school with white children. Like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., I too, could not go in the same public places as white people.

 

Although, before I went to kindergarten I could read and write in cursive. I was a smart little girl. A little girl that loved to play and say nice things... I would have been a good friend to any kid.

 

When I was a little girl, I looked a lot like Ruby Bridges. I wore my hair the same as she did. I wore a dress like hers. I, like Ruby Bridges, was born in the south in 1954. She was born in Mississippi. I was born in Arkansas. She was a brave little girl. I don't think I could have been so brave.

 

When I was a little girl, in 1963, President John Fitzgerald Kennedy was assassinated. I was nine years old. I was sad and concerned. I called my mother at work to give her the news. My big sister Peggy helped me to call my mom on the phone, while I stood in the kitchen chair and read the entire article that was on the front page of the newspaper. My mom listened.

 

When I was nine years old, my mom moved my brothers and me to California. We packed up all of our things and moved out west. We left my dad and big sister behind. My big sister was to graduate from high school that year from the school my dad taught at. I was afraid for them because I knew things were about to change. And they did - INTEGRATION.

 

Now, white children were being forced to attend black schools, which included the school my dad taught for and my sister attended.

 

I, like Ruby Bridges, would pray. I would pray that the rocks that were thrown at my dad would not hurt him. And that no one would hurt my sister. This was the time of the civil rights movement. Time passed, and they survived.

 

When I enrolled into elementary school here in California, I was shy. Things were much different here than in the south. The school was big, and with new things to play with. In the south, all we had to play with were each other. We played tag, ring around the rosy and on the teeter-totter.

 

Life was different out west. I played with children of different races. My new friends were a Japanese girl named Susan, a Mexican girl named Virginia, and a black girl named Paula. I was shy, but my new friends were nice and we got along fine. They taught me the new games to play. Like four square and tetherball.

 

I had a big, wonderful family here also. I had five uncles and three aunts. We had great family times together. Yes, things were different now. Being a new little girl in such a big city was sort of strange. But I guess I, like Ruby Bridges, was a brave little girl after all.

 

 

©2004, By Stella Smith. All Rights Reserved.

 

 

Stella Smith lives in Los Angeles, California. Ms. Smith is a mother, an educator and the author of numerous poems and essays.