Sometimes I didn’t hear my mother.
Sometimes I didn’t hear my grandmother.
They could have been calling me at the same time and I wouldn’t have noticed.
When I was a child Superman got my undivided attention. If he was on television, in live action or cartoon form, I was oblivious to everything going on around me. That included my mother and grandmother asking me questions or commanding me not to sit so close to the TV because it would ruin my eyesight.
The Man of Steel was unquestionably my hero. I wanted nothing more than to have his ability to fly, to be super strong and fast, and to frolic through my everyday life wearing a cape.
I also wanted his power to attract friends with the greatest of ease.
Superman could stop anything but kryptonite. My weakness was drawing unwanted attention. Regrettably, my peers had no problem exploiting it while pelting me with insults. I was quite pervious to pain.
As much as I so desperately wanted to be Superman, I was more like his awkward alter ego Clark Kent. At least that’s how imagined people viewed me.
There was no fancy spandex suit and cape hidden underneath my clothes to change their impression of me. |THIS.
[By Mr. Joe Walker]
BLACK is a 9-chapter series that deals with race, social perspective, and inclusion. Each entry is based on real life events.
