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Sacred Dollar Racism

176 Words1 Pages
When I was a seven year old, I would watch TV constantly. I had exactly one dollar to my name. On more than one occasion, I would be in the middle of my favorite show when interrupted by the innocent faces of African children. None of them would be smiling and nearly all were skinny and dirty. On other occasions it would be the tear-filled eyes of a homeless dog, or an abused kitten staring into my soul through the screen. It seemed like the re-occurring common factor that these commercials had was the sad music and an angelic lady pleading for donations, and promising a free tee-shirt, photos, or bumper sticker in return. My mother explained to me, as I dropped my sacred dollar into an envelope, “This is known as charity.” Later on,
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