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Y’all my oldest son attended private schools in #Baltimore for 12 years: I wonder what did he gain? And what did he lose? Heres HIS story (it was published in the @washingtonpost in 2017)
Title: At my Baltimore school, they played let’s get the Black Boy, I was the Black Boy
1/7
Title: At my Baltimore school, they played let’s get the Black Boy, I was the Black Boy
1/7
When I was 6, a boy in my class made up a game called “Let’s get the black boy.” I dont remember the details, but I remember that I spent the entire recess running. I do not know if it was because I was scared or if I was just playing the game. I still attend school w/ the boy 2/
They probably dont remember, but I do and my mom does. It was one of the moments that marked our family and defined who we were going to be in this world. My mother changed her career at that moment and devoted herself to doing diversity training to confront these issues 3/7
There are days when I feel like every other 11th-grader, consumed with thoughts of the upcoming exams or college or girls. Some days, I do not think about being black, or that I attend schools that would have denied admission to my grandfather, or the gnawing feeling that I’m 4/7
(as Maya Angelou wrote) the hope and dream of the slave. Those are the days when I feel normal and when I can breathe. It is during those other moments, when I am trying to articulate what it feels like to be black in America or when...
5/7
5/7
I’m painfully aware that the color of my skin is steeped in a legacy of enslavement, Jim Crow, mass incarceration, Black Lives Matter and white kids chasing a lone black boy around the playground while white teachers looked on but never interceded.
6/7
6/7
