[Natasha Robinson asked me to join her in a series on pursuing God’s justice on her blog A Sista’s Journey. Here’s the opening, with a link to read the rest at her place.]
“I hear you don’t like Mexicans.” He looked Hispanic and he looked angry.
“What?” I stood at my high school locker late that afternoon, the halls empty but for me and my accuser.
“I heard you said you don’t like Mexicans.”
He leaned in, taller, stronger, threatening. It didn’t take much to be taller and stronger than me. I was a shrimpy freshman. It didn’t take much to threaten me either. I was also a wimpy freshman.
“I didn’t say that.” All I wanted was to convince this guy not to hit me. It looked like he was going to anyway. … [Read the rest at Natasha’s place.]