Author's Note: To begin, this novel is strictly about over-exaggerations and extreme stereotypes. I myself am not racist in ANY way, and this novel was not written to offend anybody, but to show the obnoxiousness of actual racism and stererotypes. I am not saying all white people are racist, or implying that about any other race. This is both a dramatic and comedic story, but it's overall theme is about racial equality and the absurdity of stereotypes. Thank you for reading. *NOTE: Updated some grammar mistakes, etc.*


"Today we will be discussing the subject of segregation."

Notebooks out. Heads were up as ears listened attentively.

Mr. White cleared his throat before he continued, and I held my pencil firmly as I waited for him to go on. I tapped the tip against my paper, softening the lead. He subtly adjusted his toupee, trying to make it seem like he was running his fingers through his hair. Right. Then, he picked up a piece of chalk and began to write on the board behind him. Big letters. SEGREGATION.

Underneath it: Separate but Equal.

He spoke it. "Separate but equal."

We all nodded in agreement.

"In Honeyville, our structure allows us of all groups to have the same rights, attend the same school, and so forth. And as each person exclusively belongs to one separate group and one group only, we can maintain peace, harmony, and order. Welcome students, to world cultures class, senior year."

The whole class applauded softly in response, and I almost felt a tear well up in my eye. Bravo, Mr. White. Though his toupee was extremely ugly, his lecture was not.

He carried on. "Now, students. Would you give me an example of what defines the African American group."

Lots-of-smiles Joe with the billionaire parents shot up his hand.

White nodded.

"They all look alike."

"Correct!" Mr. White beamed, as if he scored a touchdown. "Other characteristics are they are provided with financial government assistance, listen to hip hop music, quite enjoy fried chicken to a great extent, are rather talented dancers, and they are gifted in the track and basketful sports. Also, they have rather poor grammar. That is why they are in special classes."

My hand was moving swiftly as I took the notes he provided us with. My paper looked something like this:

I. Black group

A. look the same.

B. welfare.

C. hip-hop

D. fried chicken

E. dancing

F. track/basket-ball

G. slang

"Now," White addressed us, wiggling his white mustache. "Let us move on to the next group here at Honeyville. The Asian Group."

Giggly Suzy with her own fitness video line raised her hand. "Ooh! I know Mr. White! They are all very smart!"

"That is right!" said White, as he began to write on the chalkboard like a madman. "They are also into the anime culture and involved in video gaming."

My hand was beginning to hurt from the extensive note taking, especially since it was only the first day of school. I wondered if we were going to be tested on this.

"And now class, I am sure you know this answer. What are we in this room?"

Instantaneously and simultaneously, there was a response. "We are in the Noble sub-category of the white group." White clapped delicately with the tip of his fingers, grinning with pride.

"Let me give you students the rest of the notes in this handout," our teacher reported, gathering a stack of bright white papers from atop his desk, "since the bell will ring within a few minutes." And so, he passed them down our row.

"Test next week!" White declared, a few seconds before a sheet landed on my desk. "This is an honors class, so make sure you know all this. It should come naturally to you. But use proper language, students."

I looked down at the study guide. The rest of the list contained an analysis of all the other two groups: white and Hispanic. I moved long strands of blonde hair away from my face, as I began to read.

Three seconds later, the bell rang, and I stood up right away. Gently placing the paper into my pink folder, I began to walk towards the door.

"Diana, please wait a moment."

I stopped in my tracks. Turning around, I saw Mr. White staring towards me, motioning with his hand to come over to his desk. I came to him, and he smiled accordingly.

"Hello Miss Smith, how has your summer been? It is good to see you in my class again."

I smiled back. "Oh, it was very good. I participated in some volunteer work for the less fortunate. I helped some Hispanics find jobs in construction."

"Wonderful, Diana!" he exclaimed. "I am very proud of you. I hope you enjoy your last year here at Honeyville High."

I nodded, hoping he was finished speaking to me. "Thank you, Mr. White. I will."

I walked out of his classroom, and was faced with a crowded hallway before me. Moving towards my locker, I was able to walk between the gaps created by the different groups. The black group had their lockers to the right of me, and I could hear them rapping as I walked past them.

I noticed Latina girls speaking in Spanglish, and then Asian laughing amongst each other as they spoke English in such a heavy accent that it didn't even sound like English. To my left were the Emo and Goth groups, a sub-category of the whites. I always felt uncomfortable walking by them, but a Noble never shows fear. Their make-up was too dark, their hair with too many choppy layers. And oh-my-gosh those bangs just were horrible. And what was up with the chains? And the obsession with "A Nightmare before Christmas"?

Of course, there was nothing to be afraid of with the white trash that skipped past me, wearing the ugliest over-alls I had ever seen in my life. How I pitied everyone else.

I had finally reached my locker, which was located conveniently by the girls' bathroom, counselor's office, main office, nurse, and the rest of my day's classes. I did my combo, opened the clean door, and gazed in the mirror magnet I had placed there. I noticed that the my eyes seemed a duller shade of blue, so placing my books in my locker, I reached into my purse (Coach, of course) and pulled out some glitter to put on my lids. Mascara too. A little lipgloss, but not too much. Looked back in the mirror. Now my hair seemed out of place. What was a girl to do?

I pulled out the blow dryer from my backpack, and plugged it in to the convenient outlet on the wall by my locker. From my purse, I retrieved a round brush. Swiftly, I fixed my hair. Looked back into the mirror. Perfect.

This was Honeyville, the world's true Paradise. Everyone was equal, everyone was happy. We all had the same freedoms, rights...just not together.

And me? Well, I was Diana Smith, daughter of Benjamin and Elizabeth Smith, who were business executives at some company I had no idea about but allows me to get a heavy allowance every week. I was an only child, a spoiled child, and we were Nobles. We ruled Honeyville. We kept order in our town and made sure everyone was getting along.

Racism didn't exist here. We stuck to our group and avoided conflict. That was what I have always been told, what I always believed, what I had been taught: Honeyville's "Natural Nature."

My beliefs were never challenged. I never experienced any conflict or encounters with the other groups. My friends were Nobles in drama class and the other preps. I was quite popular in school, and Honeyville was my home. No problems, no worries. Everyone was at peace.

Segregation: separate, but equal.