A Purple Country Where A Black Kid Could Pick Up A Book And Not Be Called White

-by Decay

The first speech I heard Obama give was at the 2004 convention.  He imagined (I paraphrase) "a purple country where a black kid could pick up a book and not be called white."  I was dumbstruck. I used to teach English in an inner-city high school, and I was constantly hit with this fact. Many kids who were brilliant had to read in secret, and would come to me before school and ask questions, or stop me in the parking lot to go over a topic. They were afraid to show their curiosity because they would be-- literally-- beaten up if they showed interest in class. 
   
And some classes would open up and be amazing experiences once it became ok for everyone to contribute and be bright.
 
In one class I had a student who looked like he was about 30, although he was 17.  He had a 6th grade reading level in his senior year. If he wasn't into what was going on in the class, no one said anything. He rarely spoke to me, and sometimes just stared at me while I was talking. Someone brought a guitar to class one day, and it stood in the corner. He picked it up and was fumbling around with it. The class got completely silent. He (his name was Dexter) stopped and looked around in an intense embarrassment. My heart started beating so fast. I asked him if he played guitar, and he said no, but he always thought about learning. 
 
I asked him if there were any songs he liked, and he mentioned an Earth Wind & Fire song. I knew it, and showed him the first two chords, and he took the guitar from me and played them right off. Left hand locked, his right hand, strumming -perfect.
    
Gifted. 
 
He looked up and the class was staring at him. He had this huge smile on his face. He came after class and I showed him some more chords. Two weeks later he was playing whole songs, and not just playing, but ripping on them. Force, tone, feel, the whole thing.
 
Dexter was not afraid to learn from then on. He went into some advanced reading programs and became a leader. He was proud. No one called him white. 

I'd never heard anyone other than teachers and others who work in the schools talk about this micro issue that effects our country so powerfully until Obama brought it up at the convention. And I think about it every time I hear him speak. He's thinking.  He knows stuff. Detail. Planning. Approaches.  Looking for answers, strategies. And tactics. Oh, he knows, John McCain, he knows... 
 
p.s.

Two months later, two guys walked into my class off the street, and said something I didn't understand. I asked them what they wanted and they started walking towards me. (I looked like I was about 15 when I was teaching, right out of college, so they must have thought I was a student.)  Dexter stood up in front of them, and I couldn't see his face, but I saw theirs, and I heard him say "I gotta sharpen my pencil" as he held it in front of their faces, and they looked down and walked out.  As soon as the door closed, he turned around and gave me that smile again.