Is it too late to drop the class?
This is what you asked yourself when you saw the title of Thursday’s reading: “The Code of the Street”
Your brow furrowed
Your body felt tense
Your breathing slowed
“Of all the problems besetting the POOR inner-city BLACK community, none is more pressing than that of interpersonal violence and aggression” (emphasis yours)
You froze
Looked straight ahead
The camera zoomed in on your face
And then into your left pupil as
The vision of Thursday’s lecture manifested
Your white, male professor stood at the podium
The words “Cultural Sociology” stood before you and 250 other predominantly WHITE students
You made eye contact with the four other BLACK people in the room
You placed your left hand over your right hand to stop the shaking
Is this fear?
You snapped back into reality with a sharp inhale
Your right hand was still shaking
Your left one was too
The shaking had traveled to your stomach
Your legs
Your arms
Is this anger?
You looked back at the reading
“Elijah Anderson”
A BLACK sociologist, according to Google
You decide to skim the reading
Tried to block out the shaking and the vision and the fear-anger
“The inclination to violence springs from the circumstances of life among the GHETTO poor…”(emphasis yours)
“So-called STREET parents…often show a LACK of consideration for other people…” (emphasis yours)
You close the book, tired
You go to sleep
Thursday comes
And the shaking comes with it
The lecture slide reads “Cultural Sociology”
You are one of five in a sea of predominantly WHITE students
Your black girl magic cannot help you disappear
Cannot help you suppress the thoughts of their stares
Cannot help you float in this sea of WHITE
Black girl magic cannot help you here
The predominantly WHITE class discusses the plight of POOR BLACKS
The BLACKS are silent
The BLACKS stare
The BLACKS disappear
Into caricatures of POOR BLACKS
Into stereotypes of BLACKS, POOR
Is a synonym
Is a character trait
Is your fault
The lecture ends
The BLACK does not
Your hands
Are mahogany brown
Your face is wide, flat nose
Your hair is kinky, coily strands
Growing like the hands of BLACK Jesus
Raised to the heavens
Praying.
Silently.