By: Gabriela Yareliz
I was walking in downtown Brooklyn, and a young black man was propelling his skateboard forward, at full speed, on the street. He was going at least three times faster than the cars around him. I had never seen anything like it, and the sound was roaring. He zoomed past me and an old white man standing on the sidewalk. We were waiting to cross the street.
“Woohoo! Yes, young man!” The old man beside me yelled toward the young skateboarder.
The young skateboarder slowed as he neared the next intersection. He looked back at us for a second in slight confusion, but then it registered that the old man was cheering him on. The skateboarder put his hands together in front of his heart, a gesture of gratitude to the old man whose arms were up in the air cheering for him.
The old man looked at me and smiled, and I smiled back. We were all completely different in the way we looked, walked, where we were going and pretty much everything else– but we were also, in that moment, all the same.