Brown Sugar

4

Finally, Friday. I'd been looking forward to Friday this whole week. Not just because I knew I'd be seeing Xabrien today, but also for the debate we'd be having in class today. I couldn't wait. I power walked to Mr. Porter's room and took my usual seat in the middle desk in the front row of the classroom. I honestly only chose that desk to piss people off.

They always complained made fun of my natural hair, saying it resembled pubs, so I sat directly in front of the board. Nobody gone see through these pubs then. 

"Good morning Nadia," Mr. Porter greeted me like he usually did.

"Good morning," I smiled.

I felt so good today. Knowing that'd I'd actually have plans this weekend felt even better. I'd be spending Saturday with Xabrien. I was nervous in all honesty, but I felt like it would be natural. It was easy to talk to him via FaceTime and over the phone. We had the best text conversations. So hopefully, we could both keep that same energy in person.

I eyed the quote on the board that Mr. Porter was writing.

"Racism is the mans gravest threat to man- the maximum of hatred for the minimum of reason"
-Abraham Joshua Herschel.

I was about to cook these kids up and they didn't even know it. I had done so much extra research, has particular quotes from the readings, studies and even other academic articles to back my findings. Part of me debated on making flash cards with my points written on them. But I strayed away from it, getting wrapped up in conversation with Xabrien after he'd left practice one day this week. 

The tardy bell rang and Mr. Porter closed the door. He gave me a sheepish smile knowing I was going to be the first person with my hand up in minutes.

"As you know, today we're having our big debate on systematic racism, as well as the nature and nurturing ethics behind it.  We won't divide the class like we usually do, because I feel as though this is something that shouldn't have teams. It's what you believe," Mr. Porter stated.aert

Some people nodded, understanding where he was coming from. Others kissed their teeth, knowing they'd be stuck fending for themselves for their grade for the day, and also because they couldn't chatter with their friends.

Mr. Porter took a seat behind his desk and looked around the room. He rubbed his hands through his hair.

"Now, we will discuss this topic again. Racism has several different tiers. Today we will be discussing if racism is taught, or if that's how you're born racist." Mr. Porter said.

If somebody says they're born racist I might blow a fuse. But I already know one of these Bufords will.

"I want you all you remember, no arguing. We are stating our opinions like young adults. We're almost grown ups, so we're going to act like it. Got it?" We nodded in reply. "So who's going start?"

My hand shot into the air at the same time as this white girl named Kayla's. I eased my hand down, giving her the opportunity to speak because I wanted to hear what she had to say.

"People are born racist. Just like people are born gay. It's something you feel inside of you," She said proudly.

Bitch, did she wanna catch these hands? I quickly countered her statement.

"You cannot compare a system of beliefs to a lifestyle. Sexual orientation has nothing to do with racism or discrimination whatsoever. Though the two can be intersectional, meaning a queer identifying person can also be racists, it is a choice that you choose to have throughout the duration of your life shaped by experiences," I said.