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Boy, Girl, Racial Distinction

Long ago there was this young man, who lived an accepting life. For anonymity, we’ll simply call him Boy. He served in the United States Army, and was honorably discharged as a Spec-4. That was his first true experience surviving on his own. Boy grew up in the Army. One important thing he learned in the military was how GI’s didn’t see themselves as racially divided. He had witnessed racism, occasionally, in his life, but was never strongly confronted by it. In the military, fellow servicemen may be racially different, but that did not make a difference. The Army taught him that skin color meant nothing. Everyone was seen as green.

Boy grew up and became a man (but still known as Boy in this story). It began in early 1990’s. Boy traveled across country pursuing the girl of his dreams, and ended up in Phoenix, Arizona. We’ll call her Girl.

One day, Boy and Girl met with one of her old friends. We’ll call him, X. X had recently returned to town, and wanted to stop by his old neighborhood to say Hi to some friends at a local bar, and pick up some party favors. But, being new in town, he needed some help getting around. Girl vouched for him, so Boy agreed to help X get to the bar where his friends frequented. We’ll call the bar, The Bar.

Girl drove Boy and X to The Bar where X’s other friends hung out. Unbeknownst to Boy, The Bar didn’t match his cultural background. Few, if any, of his kind were ever there. They parked a half-block away from the entrance.

When Girl, Boy, and X got out of the car, things became strange. X waved at the other people, then turned and told Girl and Boy to stay near the car. About a dozen people standing at The Bar’s door began heading toward them at a determined pace. The imposing group gestured threateningly toward Boy and Girl. Then X shouted out to the group, “It’s cool. They’re with me. It’s cool.”

X returned his focus to Boy and Girl, and reassured them of their safety. X continued across the street to join the others approaching. They exchanged handshakes and headed back to The Bar with X.

Within a few minutes after X entered The Bar, a police car swiftly approached Boy and Girl. Two police officers got out of the car. The first officer, we’ll call PO, sternly inquired, “what are you two doing here?”

The tone and manners of PO made Boy and Girl feel very nervous. They explained they had just brought a friend. But, PO interrupted them and asked for identification. Boy and Girl provided their IDs. At the same time, X returned from The Bar. X approached PO, and greeted him familiarly, then X told PO that Boy and Girl were with him.

X, Boy, and Girl waited while PO returned to the police car. A few more minutes passed, then PO got out of the car. He came to the three, carrying a camera. To Boy and Girl he said, “You have no warrants. But, you two don’t belong in this neighborhood. When my partner and I got notified you were here, we rushed over to make sure nothing was happened.” PO’s partner, PoPo, stood off to the side, with a peculiar smirk on his face, but remained silent. PO directed Boy and Girl off to the side, “Stand over here, look forward with your hands down at your side. We need to take pictures of you. We’ll keep these on file in case you come back, or if we find out you’re buying drugs. If necessary, we can also use it to identify your bodies.” Talk about putting the fear of being a minority into a Boy or Girl.

X spoke up. He reassured PO that the three of them would leave immediately.

PO addressed X, “You know they shouldn’t be around here.” Then he turned to Boy and Girl, “You two shouldn’t be in this neighborhood. You don’t belong here. You need to get in your car and leave here, immediately. My partner and I are leaving. If you’re still here when we return, we will arrest the three of you.” The police officers returned to their car and drove off.

X asked Boy and Girl to wait just a minute. X walked quickly to The Bar’s door. Even though it was only minutes, Boy and Girl waited anxiously. To their relief, X returned, soon. The three got back in the car and left The Bar, never to return again.

 
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Posted by on February 11, 2016 in Memories, Politics, Writing

 

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