Weak in Body, Strong in Mind and Spirit

The summer progressed quite nicely, according to Kimberly and Pamela. Danny had returned to his abode and Beasts, and Dick and Kathryn visited a couple of times (which pleased Ouragan greatly). Life was good at the Five Brothers, and we enjoyed each others company.

I found that I not only enjoyed playing with the Baddogs, but also with Pamela’s and David’s Goats. They’re named Amos n’ Andy, and they love attention as much as the Baddogs do. The amazing thing about goats is that they will eat almost anything. Trees, leaves, grass, weeds, flowers... anything. Our little Little Ones enjoyed feeding them to see what they would eat.

Our little Little Ones also loved playing with the Baddogs for hours and would throw sticks for them to fetch. Sometimes they would pet the Beasts too. The Beasts didn’t like it at first, but then seemed to get used to it and enjoyed it somewhat.

Zena and Caesar played together everyday under the watchful eyes of Kamela, Megan, and Bishr. I decided I finally needed to talk to Bishr about what it was to be a Black Person and to understand this racism and hate he spoke of.

“Bishr? May I speak with you?” I asked.

“Dude, of course.”

“What is a ‘dude’?” I asked.

“It is just a slang term for man,” he answered. “A person.”

“OK,” I said.

“Is that it?” asked Bishr.

“No. Tell me about racism,” I stated flatly.

Bishr became very quiet, something he doesn’t do often. He reflected on my question.

“Well, there isn’t really much to tell,” he began. “There are people... Little People to you... who believe their race and color of skin is superior to others. Or bigotry and that their religion is superior, or their political beliefs better. And it is all bullshit.”

“Bullshit?” I asked.

“Sorry, that was uncalled for,” he continued. “I apologize for my crude language. My people live on a continent called Africa. People came and stole many of us from our tribes and sold us as slaves.”

“How horrible!” I said. “Slaves? You were the property of others?”

“I wasn’t,” said Bishr, “but many Blacks were generations ago. There was finally a horrible war fought over it in this country, and elsewhere, and slavery was abolished here. It is now illegal just about everywhere in the world.”

“Good,” I interjected.

“Good, but although emancipated, we still weren’t truly free,” he continued. “We weren’t slaves, but we were uneducated and couldn’t attend schools. We couldn’t vote. We couldn’t buy homes or rent. We weren’t treated as equals.”

“This is very disturbing to me,” I said.

“Try being a young Black man,” said Bishr. “To this day, there are people who call us niggers, a highly offensive word.”

“But it is only a word,” I said. “I don’t understand.”

“It is a demeaning and derisive word,” said Bishr. “But believe it or not, some Blacks call each other nigger.”

“What? Why?” I asked, “If it is highly offensive...”

“To show how cool we are,” he answered. “It connotes brotherhood.”

I scowled, obviously not understanding whatsoever. I looked to my left and watched Zena and Caesar playing quite happily. Bishr noticed too, and smiled.

“They don’t know hate,” said Bishr softly. “And they won’t learn it from Megan or me. But I worry about my daughter and son.”

“You have a daughter too?” I asked. “Where?”

“She’s with her mom,” said Bishr. “In Florida.”

“I see,” I said sadly. “It must be hard to be apart.”

“It is, sometimes,” he answered. “But I am enjoying being here in the Five Brothers with you all. I feel no hate or animosity here.”

“Nor shall you,” I answered.

“I can really get into your lifestyle,” said Bishr. “It is a fine way to live.”

“Perhaps you should stay,” I offered.

“No, I can’t. I need to make money to pay bills and child support,” he answered. “And soon Caesar will need to go to school.”

“School? What is school?” I asked.

“It is where we send our children so they can learn things and get an education,” Bishr replied.

“We just teach our littles ourselves,” I answered.

“Yeah but...” and his voice trailed off. “That’s not how we do it.”

“So if they go to this school to learn things, is this also where they can learn hate?” I asked.

“Well, sometimes,” said Bishr.

“So why would you send Caesar to a school to learn to hate?”

“Look, it’s more complicated than that,” said Bishr. “We have laws about educating our children.”

“You have laws that make you learn hate?”

“Dude, look, my head is spinning. Let’s continue this talk some other time,” he said.

“Alright. Thank you for your time, Bishr,” I said.

“No problem, anytime.”

And then we both enjoyed watching Zena and Caesar giggling at each other and playing together without a care in the world.