I wasn’t like the other children in my neighborhood.
I wore sweater vests over button up shirts with jeans and loafers. Those my age around the way wore sports jerseys, t-shirts, and sneakers.
As much as I liked to watch basketball I didn’t particularly like to play it. I could hit a shot now and then, but I wasn’t a good shooter by any means.
If I happened to end up on a team, I could get you a few steals and rebounds, make the right pass, and I’d even get a block occasionally. To my peers around the way this was never good enough. I didn’t care. I preferred to participate in soccer.
My mother didn’t allow me to listen to dirty comedy or watch R-rated movies. For some other children this was okay, and if it wasn’t they’d sneak and do it. Not me. I played it straight.
If I wasn’t watching my favorite old school cartoons – The Flintstones, The Jetsons, Rocky & Bullwinkle, Woody Woodpecker, Shirt Tales, and Mighty Mouse, I’d be writing in my notebook or reading Marvel comic books.
For these reasons the children from my neighborhood called me goofy, weird, and a nerd.
My favorite insult of theirs was “Black White boy” which insinuated I was a Black child who behaved like a White child.
I wasn’t like them at all. |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.
