Friday, February 7, 2014

An Early Education. By Eric Smith

When I attended Kindergarten in 1970-71 me and a childhood buddy of mine would walk to and from school by ourselves and being that the school was something like seven to eight blocks from our homes this was quite a hike for a pair of five year old kids. Now this particular part of Freeport NY where I lived had only only allowed African Americans to buy houses there within the past ten years and black people were literally barred from moving into many sections of that town until the Fair Housing Act of 1968 was passed in the immediate aftermath of the race riots following the assassination of Dr. King.

Yet even though by 1970 things had begun to change, at that time they hadn't changed all that much. So me and my friend in order to get to and from school had to walk through a few sections of town that were still lily white and one day either in late 1970 or early 1971 this created a huge headache for me and my friend as we were walking home from school. I mean were just going about our business as usual trying to get home when suddenly out of nowhere a bunch of older white kids surrounded us. One of them poked me in the chest and said "Hey you (maybe he called me the "n" word and maybe he didn't. I'm not sure), this is a white neighborhood and black people aren't allowed to walk through here!"

Now I'm all of five years old and I am totally confused. I looked at him and said "What are you talking about? What do you mean black people can't walk through here? What do you mean by black people?" At that point one of them grabbed me by the arm and pointed to it. "See?!" he said. "That's black and people with this skin color like this aren't allowed to walk through this neighborhood, see?!" Now by this time these kids were getting ready to beat the living crap out of us and I don't remember exactly what me and my friend did next. The only thing I recall is me and my friend running like hell towards home & glancing back and seeing the lead white kid picking himself up off the ground. I don't know if me and my buddy hit him or barreled him over as we tried to get out of there.

I do know that when my Dad found out he erupted because as he told me, the same exact thing had happened to him when he was around my age in the early 1930's. He and no doubt some other folks did something in response to this because me and my buddy never faced a similar situation again, though I'm not sure that my parents ever really got over my having had to face something like this at so young an age. I mean my witnessing of a race riot following Dr. King's assassination had alerted me to the fact that something just wasn't right in the world.

The incident I have just described clarified just what that something was because until that particular incident, the fact that people looked different from each other just didn't register with me. It registered with me then, and it will register with me forever. I don't dwell on it but I'm never going to forget it and I sure as hell am never going to allow anyone else to tell me to forget it; to let bygones be bygones. As long as incidents like this occur I am going to call them out for exactly what they are for I owe that to my five year old self and every little black boy and little black girl who experiences the same exact thing and for the same ignorant reasons.

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