'white Privilege' Does Exist

Abandoned as a child believed to be no more than five, the matron of the orphans home, was...other than my mom... The first to have to face the task of tending to my welfare, and started out by posting me on - “HomelessKids.com! A site set up for placing mostly young, abandoned children, but not so much for kids whose folks had died or were in jail. Relatively quickly - on a day I’ll not forget - a couple that was looking for a young caucasian male, Came around to carefully check the kids they had - “in stock” - perusing every facet of the ones they felt could work, Then proved what many minority kids had whined about is true...in far too many instances --- being white’s a perk! Unaware of what their two prerequisites had been...at five years old, all I knew was - someone wanted me, And far too young to comprehend the prejudice unveiled...being placed, to me...was like - a prisoner going free! As I grew, this couple - who‘d provided me the chance to meld into their loving world - provided all I’d need To slowly mend my broken heart...which had, of course, been crushed by two uncaring people who’d conspired to plant the seed. To me - it didn’t matter why they’d chosen not to keep me...but so ashamed of what they’d done, the answers I’d devise Were laced with so much bitterness that, when my friends would ask, every explanation that I gave was rife with lies. The day that they’d abandoned me, I knew my given name, but didn’t know my surname - so was listed as just - Tom. My mem’ries of my father were both few and very vague, but I could clearly picture who I thought had been - my mom. And as it is with kids too young to know their day of birth...and left without the needed information to be sure, Once they’d failed - with pictured ads - to find someone who’d know...the home would simply ask the children which day they’d prefer To celebrate their birthday on. They’d leave it up to them. And I had chosen May fifteenth - the day my world had changed, And every May 15th that followed marked another a year for those who’d - walked away from me, and being - still estranged. Entering me as - “5 yrs. old” - the day my file began - just seven months from when they’d placed me - I’d be turning six, And being told they’d - “make the rounds” - to visit now and then, to verify that every child that every couple picks Gets the sort of treatment they’d assured them they would get...I was deeply grateful that the pair who’d chosen me Had met their obligation to fulfill my every need...and tried their best to be the finest parents they could be. The surname I’d acquired was well respected...influential...and opened doors among the sort you’d brag about to know. But now a man of forty-five, the forty now behind me have me understanding that, the same as years ago, Back there in that orphan’s home...the color of one’s skin...plays an unforgivable discriminating part In making key decisions, like, for instance...“being placed”, which I am here to testify can break a youngster’s heart! Far too often - non-caucasians...just as qualified - wind up hearing, “Sorry…that position has been filled!” And four long decades wiser - I completely understand...given what - within my mind - seeing it has instilled... Just how painful being a person of color often is. And when I stop to think about the chances most have missed Because of their ethnicity, I feel so damn ashamed...and...take my word - without a doubt - “white privilege” does exist! PS: I've now got 4 new Audio-CDs - @ 4 1/2 hours each = (62 diversely varied pieces). They’re listed on EBAY - under - “Mark Stellinga Poetry” - or available by simply contacting me at -- mark@writerofbooks.com -- should those of you who enjoy listening to poems as well as reading them - and particularly those of you that travel - care to be so entertained. (We use safe and simple - PayPal) Cheers, Mark