As soon as we got to the office, things shifted. I, little white girl that I was, got sent to see the nurse, while Jamie, little Black boy that he was, had to sit with the Assistant Principal until we could both go in and see the Big Lady together. I was confused but figured wed trade places shortly. That trade never happened. In fact, when we made it into the Principals office -- after confirming that no damage had been done to my precious trachea -- Jamie was forced to call his mom and explain what HE had done while I sat there and watched like a poor, innocent victim. HOLD UP!!! My little brain was spinning. I had a good 10 pounds on Jamie, as little girls often do at that age, and thats a lot when you only weigh, like, 50 pounds total. I was more aggressive. More assertive. And I was pretty sure I had won the who-strangled-best contest (and proud of it). Why was he being singled out as the bad, violent and guilty one?? This could only have meant one thing and even at that age I knew it: racism. Can I speak to Jamies mom? I asked the Principal. Things in public school were less rule-bound back then, so she allowed a very, very outspoken little 5-year-old have her way. Mrs. W, hi this is Amanda. I strangled Jamie too. We were just playing a scene from The Simpsons . They only got him in trouble and not me because hes Black. huffingtonpost/amanda-smear-baudier/a-little-white-girls-first-experience-of-racism_b_5697531.html
Posted on: Mon, 25 Aug 2014 11:30:01 +0000
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