So when I last left off with my story I told you guys that whenever I was at home, that was when I had my bad memories. The good times I had were with siblings. I have 2 sisters and 2 brothers. Whenever we were home we always either played outside or went to the park. we were always on the basketball court playing with the older kids, and at the same time being rejected by some of them. Rejected for what you ask?….Hahaha….because we were black living in a white neighborhood and everybody already had their stereotypes about us.

Now I’m not going to say that all of the people we lived around were like that. Some o them actually gave us a chance to show them who we really were. Some actually became real good friends with us, and others not so much. We were threatened by some of the town kids as well as there parents… about ignorance. One occasion that comes to mind is, on one evening my brother and sister and I were walking home from the town park. Now keep in mind that there were no sidewalks where we lived at that time. So as we are walking down the side of the road this pickup truck pulls over and three white get out and starts yelling at us and one white guy decides to chase us around with a hammer swinging at us and almost hits me in the head and almost hits my brother. As this is happening you would think that somebody would pull over and help 3 young kids from being attacked by 3 white guys. But no people just kept driving by and even some of the drivers even beeped their horns. Now during this entire confrontation my brother was the bravest one. While I was trying to get to my sister my brother was trying to get closer to the guy who was swinging the hammer. Of course I got my sister out of the way and then ran towards my brother and then the guys came after me again and we took off running. The last thing that we heard the guy say as he drove off was “go back to Micheal Jackson house “. What the hell does he have to do with anything?…..

So when we told my father what happened he went fucking crazy. I never seen him that crazy before, but then again somebody fucked with his kids. He called the cops and made a formal report, and when the detectives was taking our statements, they acted as if we were lying about the whole situation. “We’re going o find the people this did this to your kids” the detectives said. Three days later we seen the same pickup truck sitting at the same store where the attack took place. Now here’s the kicker, they were talking o the town cops. So much for finding the people who did this to your kids, huh?

So after that attack took place I was petty much on guard towards every white person that we came across. When we were at school and some of the other kids found out, some o them laughed and said that they should of got those “niggers”. Now at the age that I was I wasn’t completely sure what that word meant. They also called us “coons” and “jigga boo” which all had a racist term for black people. I even laughed at some of those names because I thought they were cool nicknames at the time. That just goes to show how ignorant I was to all of the racism that w faced at that time. it wasn’t until this white girl that was in my class told me not to laugh or smile when the other kids called me that. I asked why not? she said “they are making fun of you and they’re being prejudice towards you”. I just sat there and looked at her and wondered why they were saying things like that to me and my siblings. We just moved there not to long ago and we don’t know anybody really so the fuck were they saying things like that. I turned around and asked her why she wasn’t saying things like that me and why is she telling me this? She said “I’m not like that”. “My mom said it’s not nice to call people names and that they were stupid”. So needless to say we became friends throughout school. All through school I ran track and played football only for one year. I also ran away from home once. As I got older and my school years were almost over my parents were never there. The only time we got any attention from them is when we were in trouble for something. 

If I didn’t mention before my stepmother gave me a black eye because I got in trouble at school. She also kicked my little brother so hard se kicked him under the dining room table. Now don’t get me wrong, some things I did I deserve to get in trouble. I lied my ass off when I was a teenager. I mean if I could tell a lie and get away with it…..shit I did it. I lied because I didn’t want to get in trouble by my dad. Never did I realize that the more I lied the more trouble I got into. My dad and my grandmother always said to tell the truth. But shit if I told the truth I still got in trouble anyway so what the fuck? On a funnier note, I was in my junior year in high school, and I was with a couple of friends in the park just playing ball and having a good time. I got into one of my friend car and put it in drive, and pressed on the gas and slam…..I crashed into a another car. Of course I got in trouble. But the funny thing about my punishment was I was sent to Buffalo to my mom’s house with my grandmother and the rest of my family that I haven’t seen for awhile. I haven’t seen them in awhile was because my dad never took us kids to any family reunions or even to visit. But still you sent to there and my dad or my stepmom was not. Talking having fun the entire time I was there….I had a blast.

The rest of my school years went by pretty quick. Junior prom and senior prom came and left and then graduation. And before you ask, no I didn’t graduate top of my class. I graduated somewhere in the middle. But oh well, tat was my schools tears in a nut shell. Like I mentioned my younger years and my high school years were uneventful and it was only at home is when things for m were sad…..and it didn’t stop there.    


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s