The boy who thought he knew the answer to racism!


***********************
Edited to add additional warnings. This story is written from the point of view of a eleven year old boy. If you read it you will experience the thoughts and emotions of that boy during his rape. ************************


I apologize to any Afro-American people that may read this, some words may be disturbing but it is important that I use them. Out of respect I will not use the N-word.

I started school in east Texas, in a two room school, at that time schools were segregated. The
black students had a new school. For the 2ed grade we moved to corpus Christi Texas. There were no blacks, but there were Mexicans, the school playground was split Mexicans by themselves and whiteís by themselves. In third grade we moved back to east Texas, segregations was now dead, both schools were closed and everyone was bused to Jefferson 20 miles away. The school there was mixed but in the playground the whites and blacks had separate groups. For fourth and fifth grade we lived in Denton Texas the schools and playgrounds were the same. I was in the fifth grade in 1968.

My grandfather was a good man, my grandfather was a racist. I did not know this at the time. My grandfather would tell funny stories about dumb colored folks. He would use words like Negro or colored, when talking about Afro-Americans he never used the word black. If he was anger he would use the N-word, to him it meant the same as poor white trash.

My Dad was a big man, six foot one and 350 pounds, when he was sixteen he knocked out my
grandfather with one punch. I think he thought that we would grow up the same; he did not hold with fighting, he would always say to us to back away from a fight unless it was something really worth it.

I donít remember but I am sure I saw the race riots that were happening in 1967 & 1968. It came to me that the solution to racism lay on the playground, I was sure if the kids would just play together and got to know each other as kids that most if not all racism would die. I tried to get up the nerve to go and play with the blacks on the playground but I could not do it. Fear of being rejected by your group is strong at that stage in life. Fade Out!

In May or June of 1968 my older brother and his friend were going to ride their bikes to the library which was in the civic center park. I asked mom if I could go, she said yes. My older
brother and his friend, not wanting to have me tag along rode off ahead, I could not keep up. But not to worry I knew the way it was only about 5 miles, I arrived at the park, as I rode across it to get to the library I meat a colored boy that was older and taller than me. I have always been tall for my age I was 5 foot 2 inches that year at 11 years old. I would say the colored boy to be about 16 years old and about 5 foot 6 inches in height. We stopped and talked for a while, I said I was meeting my brother at the library. I took this opportunity to talk about racism and what I thought should be done to solve it. He seemed to agree with me. As we both walked toward the library, we came up on the outside restrooms in the park, and he asked if I had ever used them I said no. He said that there was something in there I should see.


******BEGIN STRONG TRIGGERS***********


I went in, the place was torn apart with shit all over the floor, flies a buzzing. It smelt bad. I
turned around and he had a knife. I knew what was going to happen next he was going to steal my money. I only had 35 cents so I decided to not fight, it would not be worth the risk of being stabbed with a knife. He told me to turn around and drop my pants and underwear; I did still thinking I was going too be robbed. (two nights before this I had seen a Abbot and Costello movie where in the chase scene they got the drop on the bad guys and pulled their belts, so their pants would fall and they would trip while chasing them, very funny) He then said get on the floor, there was shit on the floor I did not want to do it, but I did, it was a cold floor. I am waiting for him to take my money and run, so I could get up! About this time he says donít move and gets on top of me, his pants are down too. He tries to put something in my ASS! I squeeze down the entrance, he does not get in, again he tries, I squeeze with all my might, again he does not get in. By this time with my thoughts racing, it has come to me that even though dad never did tell us the things that are worth fighting for; I think this is one of them! I start reaching back trying to get a handhold to pull him off me, but cannot. He tries to get in a third time, again I squeeze down with all my might, he does not get in. ( I donít remember the exact words, but he said something like this) You think this is some type of game, sucker you had better let me in or Iím going to CUT YOU! He presses the knife blade to my throat so I know he means business. I am scared, I want to live, I am a coward! Any real man would fight to the death! I let him in. I donít know if I cried or whimpered, I donít remember, I think I smelt shit!

I hear a great big deep voice shouting a name, some man looking for his son. I remember that I had said my brother was waiting for me at the library, I remember I had not told this person my name! I croak thatís my brother! In a flash he is off me saying donít move for five minutes. I lay on the floor with the shit all around sobbing. I make a promise to my self as I try to get my pants back up that I when I get old enough to want sex, If I force myself on anyone I will kill myself!!

I hobble back outside and see my bike; I head for home and mommy, five long miles to go. I get home and open the front door and see mommy on the sofa , she is crying once again! She says come here son I have something to tell you, I come and she holds me and says that she and dad are getting a DIVORCE!! I am no longer worried about someone sticking a dick in my ass, or the pain.

My world is being torn apart, I argue with her not to get a divorce, finally she agrees to a separation. She says go on now, so I go.

I go into the bathroom and take off my pants and underwear. I wash the blood out of my underwear. I think I do this for three days not sure. I never tell mommy and dad about what happen, They have much bigger problems to worry about!
The end for now!

_________________________
"Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow. Don't walk behind me, I may not lead. Just walk beside me and be my friend." - Albert Camus
Pretty much my life as I have posted so far. Triggers!