Dear younger me
Where do I start
If I could tell you everything that I have learned so far
Then you could be
One step ahead
Of all the painful memories still running through my head
I wonder how much different things would be
Dear younger me – MercyMe
I have thought about wanting to go back in time and talking to my younger me. I would tell myself what to do to avoid all the mistakes I made but most importantly I would tell my younger me to embrace my years in Scituate. Those years from 1976 to 1982 shaped me into the person I am today. Unfortunately, what I see now I did not see then, and it cost me friends and relationships as well as a twenty-year battle with depression.
It was a struggle for me when I attended school in Scituate, MA. It was a beautiful town on the South Shore of Massachusetts. It was a rural town, and it was different from my city life in Boston, MA. Scituate was predominantly White and to a city kid like me I saw it as a place where the rich White people lived. Please remember that I was twelve years old then. It wasn’t until I was older that I understood my thoughts were incorrect, but that is a story for another time.
I want to share with you something I don’t think I shared with my brothers, but my mother knew. I struggled to fit in not only in Scituate but with my friends in Boston. It was devastating for a child to have to believe that he needed to act Black around his Black friends and less Black around his White friends. What does that mean to act “Black.” I had no idea but, for much of my teenage years I had my Black friends call me names like Oreo (White on the inside and Black on the outside) and my White friends would tell me I was acting “Too Black” based on the way I talked and acted.
It was difficult for me because I lost myself in trying to be something I was not. I lost my identity and I wasn’t strong enough to fight. I had this anger inside that I never showed anyone, because my hunger to fit in wouldn’t allow me to work through that anger and discover the person I was that I kept hidden. I had no self-worth, and I did not honor my own dignity.
This struggle led me to make choices that put me at risk. I will not go into the details but to say that it was my cry out for help and it started my long journey of healing and taking back my dignity. It was a long road for me filled with many challenges, mistakes, poor choices, joys, and accomplishments. Although I cannot make up for all the pain that I have caused in my journey, I continue to move forward and try to do what is right and try to make a difference.
Every mountain, every valley
Through each heartache you will see
Every moment brings you closer
To who you were meant to be – MercyMe
All my time at Scituate wasn’t a struggle. I had the opportunity to be blessed with an amazing host family, and I will share that story next week and what they taught me about love and family and how it breaks barriers and how people from different worlds can come together.
Charles Redd RN
Dignity Freedom Fighter
Dignity Freedom Fighter 