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Imagine a little girl sitting alone at a table on her 5th birthday listlessly pushing blocks.

Eventually, she gets up and walks over to a group of children playing house. Summoning all the courage she can muster, she asks, "Can I play?"

A white girl, with striking blue eyes and hair the colour of mahogany answers, "Sorry, I don't play with black people".

This is forever etched in my memory. This nightmare does not end but continues with scene upon scene for each week, each month, each year of my life, as it does for million of other people who have experienced senseless hate.

This hate is called racism.

But why? Why are you racist? This is the recurring, never-answered question.

Why do you call me "paki" - or "nigger", "wop", "gook", "chink"? The names may change but the hate does not.

I see racism addressed every day in newspapers, on television, in books, in classrooms. Yet it never stops. The explanations never seem worth the effort it takes to relay them.

I ask myself why you grew to hate so much that you would taunt me, beat me or even kill me. How did you become so cruel? What is it about my brown skin, my accent and my name that annoys you so?

I read in a dictionary that racism is the belief that one race is superior to another. Yet this simple word encompasses so much more. It is an emotional force that changes people beliefs and outlooks. It leaves scars that are never erased and causes wounds that never heal.

You can break a Jewish (or Pakistani, Jamaican, Asian...) mother's heart after killing her son. You can cause tears to flow, but you will not have won.

You will win only when you cause me to hate, if you harden my heart and cause me to shut my eyes to injustice.

There was a time when I let you win. I hated you with every fibre of my being.

I was confused. I was angry. I shielded myself from the emotional risks and attachments of everyday life. I felt contempt for all of you . I almost wished you death, since that was the only solution I could see.

It was at this point I felt the sinking, painful realization that you had won. A little part of me had been taken away - twisted and contorted and turned ugly.

With that realization came hope and the resolve to change.

I no longer feel such immense anger. I can see the good in humanity surrounding me and realize I cannot begin to hate the way you do. I have come to accept who I am. I no longer live in fear of the next slur.

A part of me wants to run, rather than fight the ignorance - and sometimes that part wins out. But I know there is nothing wrong with me. You're the one with the problem.

I wonder why you have such vicious and hateful beliefs.

You and groups like the Ku Klux Klan will be around for a long time. And not everyone will be able to deal with your discrimination and prejudice in positive non-violent ways.

I only pray that the children of tomorrow will be able to go to school and play with their peers of any religion or heritage and that their differences will add flavour to life, not create obstacles.

I also hope, for your sake and mine - and for the happiness of us all - that you will eventually let go of the hate you feel.

Sincerely,

The Quiet Brown Girl at the Back of the Room.

Lesly Joseph, 18, is a student at Father Leo J. Austin Secondary School in Whitby.