Pop the racism, America

In fifth grade at Indian Creek Elementary, my English teacher assigned each student a two-page report on an influential African American for Black History Month. Because there were 26 people in my class, each of us was to pick a letter out of a hat and choose a historical figure whose name began with that letter. Rather than bringing in a hat on the day of the drawing, however, my teacher brought in a large sock, one that although was originally white, had been spray-painted half black. We were later commanded to address it as "the equality sock." \nThe sock she had brought was not only enormous, roughly the size of a lung, but made entirely out of wool, because, as she tenderly explained, "COTTON IS FOR CONFEDERATES!"\nWhereas I was lucky enough to pull out a "T," some of my peers were left with the unfortunate drawings of "X" and "Z." Consequently, they were forced to report on the only black inventors they could find: men like Xenubi McMahon and Zimbabwa Takatuku -- ground-breaking inventors responsible for bringing us such earth-shattering innovations as the steam engine lubricant and Hungry Hungry Hippos.\nIt was after remembering this incident that I began to wonder: Why were we forced to learn about such ridiculous trivia? Furthermore, why are such flimsy lessons of equality taught during Black History Month to promote an equality that seems to already exist? For God's sake, we all know who invented peanut butter. So, what's the point?\nThe point is this: Simply put, in a strange metaphorical sense, racism is like acne. It's caused by a vile liquid that creeps below the surface, not obvious to the casual observer until it rears its ugly blackhead. Racism continues to pop up on the hearts of many bigots, causing a disfiguring condition I have come to refer to as "Black Acne," or simply, "blacne." \nHistorically speaking, our country has had an illustrious record of "blacne." Slavery, hate crimes and civil inequality have all left substantial racial blemishes on our country's past. And although we might have popped the pimple of injustice, and time is helping to heal the wound, the scar from this defacing pustule remains present. \nThe pus has, undeniably, oozed its way into the 21st century. There are some people who still, to this day, trivialize the importance of Black History Month, trying to conceal the truth about our pustulated past with Maybelline of denial. They argue that by setting aside a specific month to honor a specific race, we are furthering the distinction between races. Some say, "If we're all equal, why is there a special month dedicated to black people? And if that month is specifically set aside for such a purpose, does that mean that all the other 11 months are Caucasian appreciation months?"\nThese morons need a reality check. \nBlack History Month isn't about causing separations. It's about mending potholes. It's about spackling walls. It's about connecting the VCR to the TV, if you know what I'm saying. Renovation. Restoration. Connection. It's about filling gaps that have been chiseled away by bigotry and hatred. \nThe reason we keep washing away these possible bigoted germs and sanitizing society, even through silly fifth-grade activities, is because it's important. By beating these messages of equality into people's heads, the repetition will finally eradicate this dangerous pus. By applying an incessant coat of societal Noxzema, we can prevent another horrendous outbreak. \nWith acne and "blacne" alike, there is only one way to prevent and destroy these ugly pustules: get Proactiv. Only then will we have cleared the splotched face of racism.