I wish I wasn't

Wishing. Hoping. Failing.

I wish I wasn’t:
Racist.

But I am.

I wish I wouldn't:
Feel the need,
To clarify that I,
'I'm not racist!',
To every person I met;
Justify everything I've done,
That could have been considered racist,
Because it was,
And I was wrong.

But I do.

I wish I was in a time where:
Black wasn’t secondary to white,
White didn’t come before black
And I didn’t instantly stereotype and categorise every person who didn’t fit into those categories as ‘other’.

But I'm not.

I wish I was raised by:
Parents who taught me the fundamentals of living,
Without putting a media-fuelled cloud over my eyes;
Teachers who didn’t blindly marginalise my peers,
When I asked said that I should play with kids similar to me.

But I was.

I wish that when I:
Walked down the street on my own,
I wouldn’t clutch my handbag close,
Or pull out my keys,
When I saw a black man;
Walked down the street on my own,
I wouldn’t just blindly smile,
And nod my head hello,
When I saw a white man.

But I do.

I wish that I:
Could have been born in a time where,
The government didn’t have to say ‘sorry’,
For their wrong doings,
But instead could have never committed those wrong doings,
In the first place.

But I was.

I wish we:
Didn’t have to hear about,
All of the racial attacks,
And police brutality,
Or protesting,
Caused by the inequality designed by man,
That we are all inexplicably apart of.

But we do.

I wish.
I just,
Wish.