guan guan staceyann chin
Kameron McDowell
guan guan staceyann chin,
last friday i ran into some black panthers slinging “black riders” newspapers on a corner. two men, not very tall, dark skinned, one had a square face and the other’s oval. the square faced man had a beret on. their uniforms didn’t match and looked rather shabby. the square faced, more dominant panther gave me a greeting and smiled. he said “can i interest you in a magazine brotha? one dollar donation.”
i began to open my mouth to kindly lie that i didn’t have any money, but they interrupted me and said “yo man watsup with your hat?”
an odd feeling of fear, relief, then annoyance washed over me. i had on a blue hat with a california highway patrol emblem dead in front. i would have ignored and gone around them to avoid this trivial conversation about to ensue. at first i just shrugged and looked around to see if anyone was near me would be on my side. no one was really in the pro-cops side, unfortunately.
the square faced panther continued “you support that man?”
i answered “i do.” he replied “what, do you want to be a highway patrol officer?” “no, more of a park ranger, not really working in urban areas.” he looked at me strangely at first, as if without warning i sprouted a horn on my forehead. i guess he’s not used to hearing young black males aspiring to be police officers every day. he shook his head, the oval faced panther did as well; he smacked his lips and asked “how you gon do that man? you supporting pigs man, pigs.”
i pursed my lips and inwardly sighed.
he then continued to give a run of the mill explanation of black oppression and how police officers put black people in prison and turn them into twenty first century slaves.
he listed off about six ethnic names. he said “do you know them?” i knew all except one. he explained how she was killed by a bart police officer. i remembered. a few months ago i heard about it for the first time in class. outrage.
best,
k
← →
guan guan staceyann chin
Kameron McDowell
guan guan staceyann chin,
last friday i ran into some black panthers slinging “black riders” newspapers on a corner. two men, not very tall, dark skinned, one had a square face and the other’s oval. the square faced man had a beret on. their uniforms didn’t match and looked rather shabby. the square faced, more dominant panther gave me a greeting and smiled. he said “can i interest you in a magazine brotha? one dollar donation.”
i began to open my mouth to kindly lie that i didn’t have any money, but they interrupted me and said “yo man watsup with your hat?”
an odd feeling of fear, relief, then annoyance washed over me. i had on a blue hat with a california highway patrol emblem dead in front. i would have ignored and gone around them to avoid this trivial conversation about to ensue. at first i just shrugged and looked around to see if anyone was near me would be on my side. no one was really in the pro-cops side, unfortunately.
the square faced panther continued “you support that man?”
i answered “i do.” he replied “what, do you want to be a highway patrol officer?” “no, more of a park ranger, not really working in urban areas.” he looked at me strangely at first, as if without warning i sprouted a horn on my forehead. i guess he’s not used to hearing young black males aspiring to be police officers every day. he shook his head, the oval faced panther did as well; he smacked his lips and asked “how you gon do that man? you supporting pigs man, pigs.”
i pursed my lips and inwardly sighed.
he then continued to give a run of the mill explanation of black oppression and how police officers put black people in prison and turn them into twenty first century slaves.
he listed off about six ethnic names. he said “do you know them?” i knew all except one. he explained how she was killed by a bart police officer. i remembered. a few months ago i heard about it for the first time in class. outrage.
best,
k
← →
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