Memories are something we all have. We can remember them or forget them. Memories are being made daily no matter how bad or good they may be. I remember growing up around the fast life and the day I became a part of it.
I remember the day two of my school teachers called me a street thug. Not to my face but amongst themselves. I just happened to be walking by. I had an A in one of those teacher’s classes and a B in the other. Not bad for a street thug. I remember asking them about certain problems and the short answers I received. Answers that weren’t really answers at all.
I remember trying to get a job at Taco Bell and being turned down. I can read well so I know the sign said, “Now Hiring.” Can’t say I didn’t try. Some of my worst memories are the day I got arrested, the day I was found guilty and the day I was sentenced to death.
I was 18 when I was arrested and 20 when I was sentenced. Memories that were forgotten were starting to be remembered. One in particular is of an old man (may he rest in peace) who used to drink wine a lot. He used to talk to me (whenever I stopped to listen) about the old days. Being that he drank a lot, most people figured he was talking non-sense and passed him by.
Whenever I open a book I think of him. Because of him Malcom X wasn’t just a movie to me. Martin Luther King, Jr. wasn’t just a holiday and a boulevard. Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad weren’t just some words mentioned in the same sentence.
Now after learning about some of our history through books and word of mouth, I know that the odds have always been against us. Slavery isn’t a myth to us, it’s real. Racial profiling is just our imagination, its real. There are still obstacles when it comes to schools and jobs. We’re forced to do what we can to survive.
We’ve made sacrifices and have taken a lot of losses in the past and the present. No matter the odds we’re still here. As far as I’m concerned we’re not going anywhere. I remember what our ancestors went through what I went through and what we’re going through now. Memories are something that we all have. We can remember them or forget them. They’re experience that makes us who we are. Let’s remember every day and never forget.
Black and Proud,
Scrappy
Copyright © 2012 by Bryan Bell
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