I made the mistake of walking down to the grocery store this morning for chocolate milk and some crackers. I needed a walk and to get out of the house. The groupies were in full force and they were fiery mad about what happened in New Orleans. The conversation I got caught in grew racially charged.
“Dat shows you what da guv’ment thinks of poor-ass niggas,” Sherman said speaking of the government’s lackadaisical response to the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.
“My great aunt be livin’ down dere and she was in the superdome,” Big S said.
“Did she get out?” I asked as I took a drink of my milk.
“Hell, I don’t be knowin’,” Big S said. “Last I heard was dat my sister saw her on TV. Haven’t heard from her since.”
“Well, I hope she is okay,” I replied sincerely.
“If all dem peoples be rich, white folks then dey would have gotten help da next day,” Sherman said excitedly and with great emotion.
I couldn’t argue with him as he was most likely right. The poor and minorities are often neglected in modern society. It’s a dog eat dog world.
“What about yo white ass?” Sherman asked speaking to me. “What would you have done?”
I ate another cracker and took a swig of chocolate milk. I pondered over my reply.
“Sherman,” I said earnestly. “I would have gotten the hell outta there. I would have packed my backpack with food and water, loaded my 9mm pistol, and hiked out of that hell hole. I can hike 15 miles on a good day.”
“Well, you crazy, white, survivalist mutha fuckas could do dat,” He replied. “But most niggas ain’t gonna be hiking. Hell, most niggas ain’t gonna have a sleeping bag or tent like yo crazy ass.”
“Sherman, would you want to sit around and wait on help that might not come?” I asked. “I would help myself.”
“What about all dem niggas with childrens and elderly folks,” Sherman replied. “Dey ass couldn’t hike outta dere.”
Big S agreed with Sherman.
“You’re right, man,” I replied. “If I had kids or an elderly family member then I would be stuck there dependent upon others. I would be doing my best to see about them.”
“Now, me and you be brothas, right?” Sherman asked as he extended his hand.
“Yeah, man. We are cool,” I replied as I shook his hand.
“Then, you gotta admit dose niggas were treated wrong,” Sherman said.
“Sherman, you and I both know that what happened down there was wrong,” I replied.
“See? Dat be what I am talkin’ about,” Sherman replied. “Even a white cracka admits it.”
I had finally finished my crackers and milk. Sherman went on and on about the injustices that had occurred in New Orleans. He and Big S argued feverishly about what had happened. I bid them both farewell and walked on home.
I don’t have anything important or ground breaking to say about what just occurred and what happened on the gulf coast. I mainly feel apathy and sadness. I have no way of helping as I am personally poor as well and have no means of doing so.
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