Cries from our Urban Youth #1

It’s a typical morning at my high school. A blue helicopter, or ‘ghetto bird’ as the kids call them, buzzes the campus, and eight or ten African American students are holding their hands high in the air while three squad cars circle them like wagons. I’m relieved not to see any bodies on the ground or yellow tape spread. We have lost too many young lives to gang warfare from our neighborhood. The police officers, or ‘po-po’s are seriously and thoroughly examining each student’s backpack, and the entire event creates a huge traffic jam, making me late. As they stream into the classroom, two of my students are loudly discussing the ongoing event. “Dang, did you see all that drama?” shouts Shelia, who is always in the middle of some sort of trouble. “Yeah, the White man oppressing the Black man, again,” sniffs Justin or Bow Wow as he likes to be called. “Shut your damn mouth, you weren’t even on that bus,” pipes Monique, a big girl who sells packaged donuts from her backpack. “Oh yeah, hostess honey, well I know them jakes got nothing better to do then to be all up in our business, making them poor nig*ers stand around for 1/2 hour with their arms in the air. What happened anyway?” Justin Bow Wow asks. “Please!” I interrupt. “The ‘N’ word is not allowed in my classroom and profanity and vulgarity must be checked at the door.” “Shit, I was ON that bus,” Shelia ignores my remark. “It all started around Third Street, some boys, you know, be mad dogging some other boys, flashing signs, talking shit, calling them out.” “How is that different from yesterday, or the day before or the day before that?” says Justin Bow Wow. “The difference, lil nig, was the stupid chicked headed bus driver. She freaked out and called the the cops on her radio, yelling about seeing a piece,” Shelia says rolling her eyes and shaking her purple braids. “A piece of what?” Justin Bow Wow laughs. “Nobody on that bus had a piece, because if they did, somebody would have a hole in ‘em!” All the students laugh. “Listen everyone, it’s too early in the morning to start talking about shooting people,” I say trying to settle them down, which is hard when you hear sirens screaming, helicopters flying overhead and trains roaring by.

Cries from our Urban Youth

A shocking book, “Cries from our Urban Youth” is told in the form of short dialogues between teacher and students.  It’s a fast paced, realistic view of the extreme challenges and unique dangers of underfunded public school systems where teachers and students are often left to fend for themselves. Check it out at Amazon.com