(18+) Come & Talk to Me: A DeVanté Swing Fanfiction

Chapter 16: Come & Help Out In The Kitchen

Please excuse any grammatical errors.

February 4, 1992

~Tia's P.O.V~

"What got you so happy today?" DeVanté said from the doorway of the room. Today I didn't have anything to do, so I'm looking into some potential projects for the future.

I lifted up, from the bed and placed my book beside me. "What do you mean?" I asked sitting up, from my awkward position.

"What yo foot doing by yo head?" He asked changing the subject. "Nevermind, what are you reading?" He asked coming closer.

"A book."

"Smart ass! I meant what's the title of it?" DeVanté said laughing sitting down on the bed, and lightly slapping my leg.

I winced a bit. Is it me, or am I the only one who hates when someone sits on the bed you have to sleep in? I didn't say nothing though, because I'm in his house. "Assata: An Autobiography."

"Who is she, and what she do?"

"She was apart of the Black Liberation Army, also known as the Black Panthers. She escaped the states to Cuba because FBI was after her. The FBI was after the whole Black Panther Party, they wanted them all dead or alive, because of what they stood for. They were going for something similar to Black Wall Street. She's also Tupac's aunt." I explained to him.

"That's dope! She related to Pac? No wonder he's becoming vocal on black issues. But, what the hell is a Black Wall Street?"

"You don't know what Black Wall Street is!?" I asked with wide eyes.

"I ain't ever heard of it..." DeVanté shrugged at me.

"Actually I get it. They don't even teach this in school. They only teach us about a few black historians. Even when we're in the time period it happened in." I told him more understanding. I didn't learn any of what I do know in school. The difference between myself and many others is that I found a way to learn about my history OUTSIDE of school.

"I feel you, I feel you. I wouldn't even know what the they taught because my ass ain't even pay attention in class." He laughed loudly.

I shook my head, "Wow... Anyways, Black Wall Street was made by black people for black people. It was located in Tulsa, Oklahoma. A black man started it, his name was O.W Gurley. He took notice of land being sold cheap, and took advantage of it and purchased it. Gurley started off with a boarding house and eventually built more things. There were black bankers, doctors, teachers, pharmacist, police etc. that resided at there. The racist white people on the other side of the tracks were jealous because us black people were making more money than they were, and they rioted it, sort of like Rosewood but different. Anyways they rioted and claimed only thirty-six black people were killed but in actuality there were a bunch more. The riot/kilings happened in 1921. They hate when we are surrounded by each other in peace and actully are doing something for ourselve. So yeah, that's the story of Black Wall Street." I explained to him carefully.

"Damn, that's fucked up. It's always us, what we do to them but be black!?" DeVanté said angrily, standing up beating on his chest. Who is he, King Kong?