We try to fight against racism

"them whities don't know what they're doin'"

the man looked up from his book.

"you shouldn't call anyone that, ma Gracie"

the old woman swung the rolling pin at him.

"I can call them all I like! first, they kill George Floyd. then they take my Bessie's Ronny? God help him in tha' prison!"

"I pray for him night and day. ever since rosa parks sat on tha' bus" the old man said, rattling his stick.

a boy ran into the kitchen, he propped his school bag on the counter.

the man placed the book beside him.

"How was school, joey?" he asked.

"school was fine, pa" the boy turned to the old woman. "got any more of your sweet potatoes pie, aunt Gracie?"

the old woman flicked a napkin at him.

"tha' for your cousin, Ronny"

the boy groaned.

"awww, just a nibble, aunty Gracie, just a nibble!"

"'k,then, after pra'ers"

"that'd take too long!"

the old man nodded.

"the boy's right, Gracie" the old man patted his stomach. "boy, do those pies do me good!"

the old woman snorted.

"praisin' the lord will do you more good! now get your pa up, joey, and send this pie to your cousin Ronny! alls he's done is read the wretched book for the whole day!"

"Remember, those good people are protesting today about George Floyd, so make way and wear your mask!" the old man added, staring at the pie aunt Gracie was wrapping up.

"and no licking of the pie!"

the door closed behind them.

~

the teacher walked to the front of the classroom. she cleared her throat. the sea of faces made her rock from side to side.

"Today, we're going to talk about racism"

Helen, what are you doing? she thought you're supposed to be teaching the kids about the British empire!

she took a deep breath.

"lately, in the news, we've all heard about George Floyd and his devastating death. can someone tell me what happened?"

a wave of hands lurched towards her.

"Amina"

"he died by being pinned to the floor by policemen. they took away his air and left him to die!"

Amina turned to look at the boy behind her.

"I bet that changes your mind on being a policeman when you grow up"

there was a murmuring from the students in the classroom.

the teacher shook her head.

"anyone can be whatever they want to be but they should never judge anyone because of their race, color, and gender."

the classroom door slammed open.

it was the headteacher, Miss Fitch.

she stared at the children's books. they were closed.

she narrowed her eyes at the teacher.

"why are their books closed?" she hissed.

"we're learning about racial injustice, ma'am, and what happened to George Floyd"

"to learn about-what?"

"about George Floyd, miss"

"why? such talk is not for children"

"because I want to teach the children that racism is wrong and nobody should be treated badly because they have darker skin than others"

"Then, Helen, you're...fired"

there was a gasp from the children.

"What did she do wrong?"

"Yeah, she's teaching us the truth instead of empires"

"you can't do that, missus, she's a really nice teacher"

"Uh-huh, we'll sign a petition"

the headteacher turned to the students.

"get out your pencils and pens, I'll be teaching you today"

"boo!!"

"you're a rubbish teacher!"

"my dad's a lawyer, he'll sue you!"

"If I get an F on my test, it's 'cause you're no good at teaching!"

"don't go, miss!"

Helen walked out the door.

Mr. Tindall passed her.

"great day isn't it?"

Helen didn't answer back. it wasn't a great day. it was a rubbish day. the day she lost her job.

great, she thought I just lost my job. what am I going to tell joey?

~

joey turned on the microphone. he grinned, briefly, at his brother. his auntie was right. they weren't feeding him well in the prison; they were starving him to death.

"you ok, Ronny?"

the teenager glared at him as if he left his brain to rot in a cupboard.

"do I look ok? they beat and punch me with their fists and hands just because I took part in trying to abolish racism and to show them the wrong they did! crazy, that's what they were."

Silence hung like a blanket in the air.

"I brought you some pie" joey said, slipping it under the flap. "the guard ate half of it though"

"where's your pa?"

"outside. doesn't wanna see you. thinks you'll give him bad dreams"

"joey?"

"yeah?"

"I want you to help me write a book...on the treatment of black people in jail"

"oooh no. I ain't no good at writin'. Ms. Crosby says I'm the worst in my class!"

"Crosby" Ronny sniffed, "that's a whitie's name, isn't it?"

"pa says not to say that. or we'll end up no different as those who spit racist things to others on the street"

Ronny pushed his chair forward and leaned in.

"joey, your pa knows nothing, sees nothing, and hears nothing. alls he does is stick his fat nose in a book that won't help stop the racist problem! I'm here, he's not! now listen to me, I want you to write what I say and put it in a book"

"where do I publish it?"

Ronny sat back in his seat.

"do you know father William?"

Joey nodded his head, vigorously.

"good. cause when I finish calling on you on what I want to be written in each chapter I want you to give it to him. tell him you want it published ASAP and don't worry about the money. Father William knows me, he'll do anything for me. got it?"

"yes"

"you'll be expecting the first chapter call at 5:35, sharp"

"visiting time over" a guard yelled.

joey got up from his seat.

"oh, and joey?"

the boy turned to look at his cousin.

"don't tell anyone apart from Father William and your mother. the rest will never keep quiet."