It wasn't just what he had said, but how passionately he had said it. And when he spoke I felt the pain he continuously illustrated. The passion in his eyes, and his hunger to tell his story and to be understood humbled me. I was excited to tell the news. Much to my dismay, the smile that dominated my face was now quickly slapped off, and blatant reality opened my virgin eyes.
Black people suck.
And so on and so on. Shocked, I cringed at the sound of the offensive words coming from the student's mouth. Seeking the location of a voice, I searched aimlessly, a tear in my eye and a knot so big in my throat that it hurt to swallow. I knocked timidly on the door, with so much anger and frustration, clueless as to what to say to my fellow peer, but knowing that I had to say something. A white boy answered the door still verbally communicating his opinion of black people and of Carter to his guest rather loudly.