Second Chance

Chapter Eighteen : "AmeriKKKa."

Tamir Bryant

Have you ever noticed how we've been taught the same black history every February? Every school I've been to never educated us on anyone but Malcom X, Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks, etcetera. What about Robert Smalls? Or The "Forgotten Four"? Or how fucking wrong they did Emmett Till?

Our black history program this morning lasted nothing but thirty minutes and like I stated before, they only mentioned the activists and people we've been talking about since elementary. Don't get me wrong, Martin Luther King Jr. and others were a huge impact on us but they weren't the only ones fighting for us or making history.

My mother had to educate me on majority of the black people that the schools didn't educate us on. She made sure that I wouldn't grow up to be one of those uneducated, brainwashed black male that believes everything the white man say. Nah, and I'm glad she did take her time out to do that.

I already felt like my history teacher, Mr. Dekker, who's a black man, is about to have us do something dealing with black history. And I was correct.

"Alright, class," his deep voice echoed through my ears as he sat the garbage cans outside the classroom. "We all know what month it is, correct? We'll start our lecture off with a debate. Don't take this offensive in any way, but I want to whites on the left side and the blacks on the right."

I was taken back by his demands at first and so was Zoë because she looked over at me. We both moved our desks to the right side, facing the other side as everyone did the same as well. Whites and blacks separated which made me know that we were outnumbered. It was only seven blacks while there were twelve whites.

"Now, you're divided by your skin color," Mr. Dekker grabbed a chair and sat between the groups, at the end, crossing his leg over his other. "The white people feel like discriminating black people is fine while the black people feel like we're all the same and they shouldn't be discriminated. Let's debate."

Everybody stayed quiet for a short period of time, just looking at each other. Zoë sat up in her seat and cleared her throat before Lucas from the white side begin to talk. I focus my attention on his.

"Why do y'all feel like racism still exist? It been died down a long time ago." He slouched down in his seat and stomped his steel-toe boots on the ground, unintentionally.

Died down a long time ago? When? Last time I check racism never stopped. It's gotten better, but as far as stopped? Hell nah and dumb if you think it did.

"Died down? I don't recall racism being dead. When did it die, Lucas?" Zoë spoke up. I already knew we were about to be on their case.

"If racism still exist, we wouldn't be in the same classroom right now," Lucas chuckled a little, looking over at his friends. "This how I see it. Y'all are trying to hold on to some history that doesn't even make sense. Like the slaves, that's been over but y'all still hold on to that. Like get over it and be happy y'all can attend school with a different race."

"Get over it? Get over the fact we were stolen from our country and soled to be slaves? Get over the fact we were whipped, beaten, spat on for the color of our skin? Get over the fact we still till this day have the last name of our slave owners? Nah, bro how can we forget about that?" I spoke up, sitting up in my seat.

"You don't have to walk out your house every morning wondering if you're going to make it home. You don't have to worry about walking down the street with some type of clothing on, wondering if you're going to get shot by a police or not. You're not wondering how you're going to get a job when you graduate because you know why? That shit be guaranteed for y'all. Y'all don't have to lie on applications in order to get an interview at some shitty restaurant just to make ends meet,"