Dear Martin Page 3
Blake, Kyle, and Tyler: [Laugh.]
Manny: [Laughs belatedly.]
Jared: If you ask me, she wants Justyce to pop her little cherry.
Kyle: Well, seeing as you never did it…
Jared: Shut up. We were in eighth grade.
Blake: You still totally wanna tap that, bro.
Kyle: Too late, though…if Justyce is your competition, you’re screwed, dog. “Once you go black,” right, Manny?
Manny: [Snorts.]
Tyler: Too bad for SJ, Justyce has his hands full with Melo Taylor—literally.
Jared: Which makes no sense to me, bro. What the hell does a hottie like Melo Taylor see in a guy who can’t afford a Happy Meal?
Manny: Maybe it’s not about money, J.
Jared: Says the dude who drives a Range Rover.
Blake, Kyle, and Tyler: [Laugh.]
Manny: Dawg, what is it with you today?
Jared: I’m just sick of people suggesting African Americans still have it so hard these days. I don’t care what SJ says, Manny. Your parents are totally proof that things are equal now.
Blake: They really are.
Jared: Right here, right now, on these red hills of Georgia, a son of former slaves and sons of former slave owners are sitting down at the table of brotherhood, dude. The Dream has been realized!
Tyler: Damn, bro. That was really poetic.
Manny: That’s from the I Have a Dream speech, T.
Jared: Remember, bro? I had to memorize that shit for our eighth-grade Heritage Play.
Blake: That’s right! Token black guy over here got sick or something, right?
Jared: Exactly.
Kyle: You had one job, Manny.
Manny: Shut up, fool.
Jared: I still remember the whole speech.
Manny: That wasn’t the whole speech, J.
Jared: Whatever. It was the most important part, and I remember all of it. They put brown makeup on me and everything.
Blake: I remember that, dude! You totally got a standing ovation!
Kyle: See, things really are equal nowadays, bro. A white kid can play a famous black dude in a play, and it’s no big deal.
Jared: Exactly! This is a color-blind society, my brethren…people are judged by the content of their character instead of the color of their skin.
Kyle: Right, dude. Like I totally don’t even see you as black, Manny!
[Manny laughs at this, but Justyce can tell his heart isn’t in it. The statement makes Justyce think about those handcuffs…these fools might not “see” Manny “as black,” but Justyce knows damn well the police would.]
Jared: My brothers, let us raise our Perrier bottles to EQUALITY!
Blake: Equality!
Tyler: Equality!
Kyle: Hell yeah, dude! Equality!
Jared: Manny? You with us, bro?
Everyone: […]
Manny: Course I am, bro. Equality!
**CLINK!**
September 18
DEAR MARTIN,
I just got back to school after an impromptu trip to the hood. Putting all my cards on the table, I went home with the intention of just staying there forever (which is extreme, I know).
When I got there, Mama was curled up on the couch with her nose buried in How Stella Got Her Groove Back. Just seeing her reading, something she worked hard to teach me to do, I knew I’d be on the bus back to school before the evening was over.
“Whatchu doin’ here, boy? It’s a school night” was the first thing she said (without looking up from the book).
“Can’t I drop in to see my dear ol’ mom when I’m missin’ her?”
“Who you callin’ old?”
That made me laugh.
“You gonna tell me what’s really going on?” She closed the book and put it to the side then.
I dropped my bag with a sigh. “Just been a rough few weeks.”
“Come on over here and sit down.”
In all honesty, I didn’t want to. Sit down is Mama-code for “spit it out,” and I woulda preferred to get my big toes shot off than talk about the stuff I was trying to escape. But Mama being Mama—and possibly psychic?—she pulled it right outta me. “This about that cop and them handcuffs?”
I dropped down beside her. “Little bit. I keep thinking about how much worse it coulda gone.”
“That non-indictment in the Carson case got you shook, huh?”
“Yeah. We had this discussion in class today, and…I don’t know, Ma. Everything I’m doing right now feels like a losing battle.”
She nodded. “Hard being a black man, ain’t it?”
I shrugged. “Guess that’s one way to put it. All I know is I can’t seem to find where I fit. Especially at that school.”
“Hmm.”
“It’s just like…I’ve been there my whole high school career, and I still feel like an outsider, you know? We were talking about the Declaration of Independence, and all I could think was how Shemar Carson was straight-up denied his ‘inalienable rights.’ It really bugged me out.”
“It should’ve.”
“I did the math when I got back to my room: there were 192 years between the Declaration of Independence and the end of all that Jim Crow stuff. Now we’re over a decade into the twenty-first century, and I know from experience people like me are still getting shafted.”
Mama nodded. “Mmhmm.”
“Sittin’ there listenin’ to this rich white boy brag about breaking the law after I sat in handcuffs for no reason…I can’t even tell you how hard that was, Ma. It’s like no matter what I do, I can’t win.”
She crossed her arms and lifted her chin, and that’s when I knew there’d be no sympathy. “So whatchu gon’ do? Run away?”
I sighed. “I don’t know, Mama.”
“You think coming back here will solve your problem?”
“At least I’d be around people who know the struggle.”
She snorted. “Boy, you betta get your behind on up to that school.”
“But, Ma—”
“Don’t ‘But, Ma’ me, Justyce.”
“I don’t fit there, though, Mama.”
“I’ve been tellin’ you since you were small that you gotta make a place for yourself in this world,” she said. “You thought I was playin’?”
I sighed again.
“You ever consider that maybe you not supposed to ‘fit’? People who make history rarely do.”
“Aww, here we go with this ‘making history’ thing again.”
“Goodbye, Justyce. I didn’t raise you to punk out when the going gets rough. Get on outta here.” She picked up her book.
“Dang, I can’t even get a hug? Somethin’ to eat?”
“You know where the kitchen is. You can get a hug on your way out.”
See what I deal with, Martin?
On the return trip, it really hit me hard: she’s right. There’s really nowhere to run. While it’s been hard processing my arrest/Castillo’s death/the Carson case/dealing with fools like Jared and them on the daily without getting discouraged, when it comes down to it, I don’t really have an alternative but to keep going, do I?
I’ll tell you the hardest thing for me today: sitting in the lounge listening to Manny agree with those fools. Granted, I could tell his heart wasn’t in it…
But still.
I’ll be candid with you: sometimes it really bugs me that Manny spends so much time with those guys. I know he’s known them forever, and it’s none of my business, but it’s hard to see my boy hang out with dudes who are blatantly disrespectful to our people. (Who puts a little kid in blackface?!) And then he doesn’t say anything about it? I guess it’s possible it doesn’t bother him, but to hear him agree that things are equal when he KNOWS about my incident…well, I’m kinda mad about that, if you want the truth.
I’ve been trying to figure out what you would’ve done if you’d been in my shoes today. I know you lived in a world where black folks were hosed and beate
n and jailed and killed while fighting for equal rights, but you still managed to be, like, dignified and everything.
How did you do that, Martin? How do I do that? There are people who don’t see a man with rights when they look at me, and I’m not real sure how to deal with that. Being treated the way I was and then hearing Jared insist there’s not a problem? And then hearing Manny agree with him? It sucks, Martin. It really does.
So what do I do now? How do I handle people like Jared? Arguing obviously won’t work….Do I just ignore him? But what does that solve, Martin? I want to “put my best foot forward,” as Mama would say. That’s what you did. Just gotta figure out how….
Time to knock out some of this homework. Hopefully I can focus.
Thanks for hearing me out,
Justyce
The minute Jared, Kyle, Tyler, and Blake step into Manny’s basement, it’s clear Jared’s Equality Brigade thing was a terrible idea.
In the month and a half since the racial equality discussion in Socio Evo, Jared’s been on a crusade to prove things in America are equal. Last week, he told Manny and his crew about this “brilliant-ass idea” he had: “Bros,” he said, “let’s all dress as different stereotypes for Halloween, and then go out together. It’ll be this massive political statement about racial equality and broken barriers and shit.” Dude even asked Justyce to participate.
Jus, of course, wasn’t real keen at first…but he let Manny talk him into it.
He’s regretting that now.
Five of the six costumes are mostly fine. Jus is the Thug, naturally: pants belted around his thighs with boxers exposed, Thug Life T-shirt, thick gold chain with a huge medallion, fitted flat-billed baseball cap. He and Manny even made a grill out of a gum wrapper for Jus to wear on his bottom teeth.
Manny’s the Token Black Guy: khakis, loafers, and polo with a cable-knit sweater draped over his shoulders and tied loosely at the chest. He’s really into it too: as soon as he was dressed, he started calling Jus “old chap” and “my good man.”
Jared’s the Yuppie/Politician. He’s wearing a suit…even has a spot on his chin where he nicked himself shaving and left the little piece of tissue there “for effect.”
Tyler’s the Surfer Dude: board shorts and a tank top even though it’s only fifty degrees out.
Kyle went with the Redneck: woodland camouflage shirt, overalls, trucker hat with a Confederate flag patch, dingy cowboy boots. He even had his sister attach a few of her hair extensions so he has a mullet. Frankly, this one is toeing the line, but okay. Not quite crossing it.
Blake, though? Blake takes it too far. He’s dressed as a Klansman. He’s got on the white robe with the circular red and white cross patch on the chest, and he even has the pointed hood with the eyeholes cut out. If Jus didn’t know it was a costume, he’d be a little scared.
“J…uhh…can I talk to you for a sec, dawg?” Manny says to Jared, who, to Justyce’s surprise, also seems pretty uncomfortable with Blake’s choice of attire.
“Sure, man.”
They walk to Manny’s room, and Justyce is left standing with the others.
“Justyce, that costume is sick, homie!” Blake says. (Because a Klansman would definitely call a black guy homie.)
Jus fights the urge to shake his head. “Yours is…uhh…”
“Wait till I put the hood on, bro. This right here is the genuine article.” He spreads his arms, beaming like he’s wrapped in a garment formerly worn by Jesus. Justyce is tempted to ask where the “genuine article” came from, but he’s not sure he wants to know the answer.
Just then, Jared reappears. “Hey, Justyce, Manny wants to talk to you, bro.”
Justyce nods and takes the deepest breath he’s ever taken, then strides to Manny’s room with eight white-boy eyes burning into him like lasers.
Yeah, this blows.
“ ’Sup, dawg?” Jus says once he steps in and closes Manny’s door. (Though of course he already knows what it’s about.)
“So Blake’s costume is…Well, you saw it.”
Jus snorts. “I did.”
“If you…umm”—Manny scratches his neck—“don’t wanna go anymore—”
“It’s cool, Manny.”
Manny’s thick eyebrows jump to the sky. “It is?”
“Yeah, man.” Truth is, four hours ago, Jus was ready to back out because the idea of going anywhere with Jared and crew just felt wrong, knowing what he knows about how they think. But then he stumbled upon Martin’s definition of integration—“intergroup and interpersonal living”—and decided to just go with it. He’s not sure this is exactly what Martin meant, but what is he supposed to say? “You ready to go, dawg?”
“Oh.” Manny clears his throat. “I guess so.”
“Let’s roll, then.” Jus leaves the room. It’s just a costume, right? Brotherhood for the win.
As soon as Jus and Manny get back to the others, Jared takes a bunch of group pictures and posts them online. Then he says, “Equality Brigade, let’s ride,” and leads the charge to the door.
When they get to Manny’s car and Blake pulls on the hood and raises his arm in the Nazi salute, Justyce knows the train he just hopped on is headed downhill in a major way. It occurs to him that the moment he said he was cool with the whole thing, he cut the brake lines and completely surrendered his power to stop it.
—
And he’s right.
Not five minutes after they get to the party, somebody sucker-punches Blake in the face. The burst of bright red beneath the eyeholes in his pointed hood makes Justyce sick to his stomach.
The next thing he knows, there’s a group of genuinely thugged-out black dudes—and one white guy—standing in front of the Equality Brigade, looking like they wanna break ALL of their stereotype faces.
The worst part? Justyce knows every single one of them. They live in his mom’s neighborhood. This is Manny’s cousin’s crew. Jus is pretty sure they all belong to a gang called the Black Jihad run by a crazy older dude named Martel Montgomery.
A dark-skinned guy with short dreadlocks gives Jus a once-over and smiles. “That’s a real funny costume, Justyce.”
“Oh…uhhh…thanks, Trey.” (Definitely not Jus’s most valiant moment.)
“And you…,” Trey says to Manny. “You Quan cousin, right?”
“Yeah,” Manny says, scratching the back of his neck.
“The fuck y’all doin’ here with these assclowns, bruh? Just gon’ letcha boy disrespect our people like that?” Trey points to Blake, who has removed his pointed hood and is holding it to his nose to stanch the bleeding.
Jared: Dude, we didn’t mean you any disrespect—
Manny: Chill, Jared.
Trey: Yeah, Jared. You should really shut ya mouth right now. Your boy has made me and my dudes upset coming in here dressed like that.
Justyce: Trey, he didn’t mean anything by it, dawg. We were doing this satire thing with stereotypes, and it went too far. Lesson learned.
Trey smiles at Justyce then. Well, more like sneers. It makes Jus feel like cockroaches are walking all over him. “You ain’t changed a bit, Justyce. Still Mr. Smarty-Pants,” Trey says, and then one of the others pipes up: “Y’all know he goes to that rich-ass white school out in Oak Ridge now.”
“It’s called Braselton Prep,” Jared corrects.
Justyce really wants Jared to shut the hell up.
“Ooooh.” The white dude—Brad, Jus believes—raises his hands in mock adoration.
Trey looks back and forth between Jus and Manny. “Don’t get it twisted, my dawgs. These white boys might be standing here next to y’all, but y’all still ain’t nothin’ but niggas to them, ya heard me?” he says. “Ain’t no amount of money nor intelligence can change that shit.”
Jared: Hey, man, that’s not true. You don’t ev—
“Shut UP, Jared!” (This from Surfer-Tyler.) “Let’s just leave, bro.”
Trey: Sounds like a great idea to me.
Jared:
Bro, this isn’t even your party. You can’t tell us to leave.
Trey laughs, and one of the other guys lifts his shirt to reveal the handgun grip sticking out of his waistband.
“I most certainly can, white boy,” Trey says. “Now you and ya li’l crew getcha punk asses outta here before things escalate.”
The guy with the gun smiles at Jus. “You and rich boy can stay with us if you want to.” All the Black Jihad guys laugh.
Trey: Bruh, you know these niggas don’t wanna chill with us. They “goin places” and shit. Gotta stay connected to the white man for the ride to the top….
He nudges the white guy with them, and they both snicker.
“Let’s go, y’all,” Jus says.
As they turn to leave, Justyce can feel Manny trying to catch his attention, but he stares straight ahead. They step outside and the chilly night air hits their faces. Jus hears Jared ask Manny, “You all right, bro?”
“Yeah, man. I’m cool,” Manny replies.
Jared steps ahead to talk to the others, and Jus watches Manny examine his tied sweater, his khakis, his loafers—his “costume” made up of clothes he pulled from his closet. He unties the sweater, then looks up at Justyce.
For the moment, they understand each other.
Justyce takes the fitted cap from his head and the fake chain from his neck.
“Happy Halloween, muthafuckas!” Trey calls out behind them.
November 1
DEAR MARTIN,
It’s 2 a.m. and I just got off the phone with SJ.
Which is crazy.
Started out innocently enough…When I got to my room at 10:15 p.m., I had a missed call from her. I figured it had to do with debate stuff since the state tournament is around the corner, so I decided to hit her back. Here’s how it went down:
SJ: Hello?
Me: Hey, SJ. It’s Justyce. You called?
SJ: Caller ID, Jus. No need to announce yourself.
Me: Oh. Okay.
SJ: (Laughs.) I was just calling to see how Douche-Nugget Christensen’s experiment-at-you-and-Manny’s-expense went. I saw the pics he posted and had to go for a run to keep from showing up at the party and punching Blake in the face.