Calling People Names

I suppose every parent who has a child that is school age has gone down to the school and heard the child tell you, "The teacher doesn't like me... and see, what had happened was... that's why I got the bad grade." We've all looked at our children side-eyed and said, "Hmmm, all of these kids in this class and you're the only one that the teacher doesn't like, huh?"

I knew not to even go there with my mom or grandmother. They saw me at home and knew all too well what I was capable of doing. However, I did have a teacher who genuinely did not like me and the feeling was mutual. I talked about Mr. O. in a post I wrote last week. Mr. O. was white and possibly a racist... yet, I never felt that he had a personal animosity toward any of us.

The teacher I'm about to talk about now was African-American and definitely had a personal animosity towards me and about two other students in our class. I've mentioned in two posts that she told me I was a "disgrace to the Negro race." She also paid me what I was later to take as a half-ass compliment, depending on how you look at it. She said, "You ain't worth a damn but, there is one thing that I respect about you... you don't try to hide it. What people see with you is what they get. Most of these no-account folks round here are phony and trying to hide who they really are but you, young man... you're true to you." I have always tried to be just that... true to me.

I admit that I have often marched to the beat of my own drum... a rhythem that only I could hear. I've never asked anybody to dance along with me either but, if they chose to... well, welcome to my party. That remark from her was meant to defame me but it actually became the code of which I've tried to live by. Being true to me!

The woman didn't like me, I didn't care for her either, and behind her back, I called her "Old Black Flo... she's so black that she can't hide in the snow" (something sing-songy like that). Whenever I didn't like somebody, I made up a goofy sing-songy phrase about them. In high school, I made up a song about the vice principal..."Whitman's got a head like a loaf of bread"... that one of my friends still chuckles about.

One day, my grandfather was walking me home from school and I saw this particular teacher driving her car down the street. I gleefully said to my grandfather... "There goes Old Black Flo Pop-Pop." He looked at me and said, "Why did you call that woman that?" I replied... "Because she's mean and she's black enough to poot smoke." Again, I thought I had said something funny. He didn't laugh. He was very patient with me and soft spoken, a trait I hope I have inherited and will use with my own grandchildren.

He said to me... "And, what are you?" I said... "I'm brown-skinned." He said, "To some people, you and her are just the same. If the Ku Klux Klan ran across both of you, they'd string you up right beside her. What? Do you think they'd hang her and let you go?" he asked. I stood quiet and felt shamed because the last thing I wanted to do was disappoint this man.

He continued... "It's not nice to call people names or to say things that are intentionally hurtful. Our people have enough challenges baby boy and sometimes we make it hard on ourselves by the way we talk to each other. We are always calling each other names and judging people by our skin tones. Sometimes, we're just as bad as the white folks that don't like us."

He meant the ones that we saw on television that were turning hoses on the civil rights protesters, lynching people, and burning or blowing up churches. Not every single one. He tempered his speech to me by saying that all of us... "Colored, white, or whatever need to learn how to talk to each other better and we might get along a little better in this world."

A simple lesson from a wise man and his point was well-taken. From that day on, I never made another remark about a person's skin tone and ironically enough, I grew up being attracted to dark-skinned women. My wife and practically every girlfriend I've ever had have all been a darker shade than me.

It didn't change how I felt about this particular teacher. I still didn't like her but, I just didn't call her "Old Black Flo" anymore.