Langston Hughes 113 Birthday

It was Afro-American History month and St. Michael's was putting on a Show and I had been chosen to be Langston Hughes and read a poem. I approached the stand, and my mind went back to the moment when I became respected by the black students….

 Yes, it was 1980 but, the racial ethnic separation still lay hard in the classroom even in a Catholic school in Silver Spring Maryland. I being ever separated by my mannerism from the blacks and the color had me at a glance from the whites, it is what it is. Not hate just different, kids don't know too much hate, or so I thought. Hate, rage is real. It comes out in certain arenas and I often was that arena, and violence always came with the hate.

I took another few steps and reached the podium across the stage. Stage fight is an understatement for this young man, stage fright from my heart and into my soul, and Dad was out there somewhere among all those sea of eye glasses  bobbing up and down in the dark filling the whole room. A laugh almost escaped me, in the jittery moment of fear…

We were playing catch foot ball in front of the school, just me and Anabel, Joe, Michael and Ron taking turns, out in the what was called an Indian summer back then, hot September air. The black girls where in front skipping rope, Janis, Shantel, more playing Double Dutch with plastic coated laundry line. It is amazing to watch, just leave it at that. Joe thought it was funny to throw the ball near the girls and I had to catch it. The first time Shantle turned around and warned me, "If that ball hits me or comes over here again you better look out." The girls went back to jumping rope and singing cadence. The boys Ron and Joe wanted to get me yelled at or whatever and mess with the black girls being boys, I add a little white for Ron from his pa, but that is a story for later. Again the ball just missed Shantle.

I had already said it wasn't me and yelled at the guys to stop…

My choice to read Langston Hughes famous poem “I Dream a World.”

I stepped forward, "I Dream a world. a poem by Langston Hughes escaped my lips"…

I got the ball and an argument started, and I yelled back. The first lash was white fire. across my arm and side. I threw the ball at her hitting her shoulder it was a weak throw I was still startled. The whipping started, lash after lash came at me for a seconds then I attempted a charge to close the last few feet and tackle Shantle or get the line. I never made it. White fire screamed from every blow and they came twice as fast and I dropped to one knee, yet she kept hitting my back, by this time the girls where rushing her to stop I finally ran from her reach other the other girls grabbed her. I looked back and it took three girls to hold her. Her face was twisted with rage, pure rage, for something beyond her young life, something I did not understand.

“A world I dream where black or white, whatever race you be, will share the bounties of the earth and every man is free,” Hughes wrote in the poem. 

I lay in my friends arms minutes later, they had opened my shirt and looked inside. I could barley move. The lashing left welts raising on my skin almost a half inch wide and I was crisscrossed everywhere on my back front, arms, legs. I had been whipped.

I continued on an automaton on the stage the words spilling from my mouth in slow motion

"Where love will bless the Earth"…

I was the leader of the black boys who came to talk to me. Explaining she was sorry and she can't get expelled.  She would get beat by her father. 

"We will Know Sweet freedoms way" I continued on.

We sat in sister Mary Raymond's office, the hard wood chairs, desk, there were 6 of us. Shantel, the Leader of the Black boys next to Shantel, Ron next to me, and the School yard teacher. There was rumor of a fight at recess. I sat still as I could the sweat stung in the wounds, and the pain was making me hazy. Principle Sister Mary Raymond was no joke and very smart, and could smell a lie like it was alive like a fly in the air buzzing about her just watching it, as the student squirmed.

"No nothing happened." but my voice waned at the end. She looked at me again, my shirt was buttoned down long sleeves, I had all the wounds covered from out ward inspection. She looked at me and asked again.

This was not a question of did it happen, she knew something had happened and it was with the clothes line, and the student, me sitting in front of her had been whipped in a fight. The fact was there was no way she could know this, but she was Sister Mary Raymond. She sat for a bit and seemed to see something I did not. I think she was the only one who did while she looked us over.

"Okay you can go." she said after some time/ I was barely keeping myself up right and my breathing and sweating had quickened.

"We shall share bounties of the Earth, and every man is free, wretchedness will hang it's head"

We were in the hall outsides and the and the leader of the black boys shook my hand, "Shantle!" he called. She turned back around and stood in front of me.

"Tell him." he said, "You tell this man now!"

She turned and something touched her, beyond the anger and fear, she saw me the savior of her day, a man who she had whipped, something she had seen before.

She started, a tear broke lose her frame shook, "I'm Sorry" was caught in a choked up cry. he went to tell her to say it better, but I lay my hand on his arm and looked at him and shook my head. There were tears in my eyes and soon his. Respect is earned at time of suffering, and honor shows forth even to those young. I hid my welt from my parents until they went away several days later. You can still see them in a certain light, If you look for lines all over, faint lines.

                                      

and joy like a pearl  attends the needs of all Mankind " and I walked off the stage in complete relief.

Amen 

THOR