14
Sep
2009
The Walk Away
School yard fight
I was born in the shadow of our nation’s capital. Growing up in the Washington DC area it was a common event to drive passed the White House and the Capital buildings. Like so many people who grow up in an area with a huge tourist industry, my family never did the ‘tourist’ thing. To this day I’ve never toured the White House or any other buildings used to govern our country. My early school field trips took care of visits to the Smithsonian, the Museum of National Art and the Washington Post however, so I’m not completely bankrupt of local sophistication regarding the area.
It will come as no surprise that my locale was a hot bed of racial tension during my childhood. The year my father died was the same year Martin Luther King and Robert F. Kennedy were assassinated, it was a year of riots, and even more change in my family due to my father’s unexpected death. I was not alone in figuring out my place all of this, my brother, just 18 months my senior was my closest friend and ally.
The year was 1968, I was nearly through fourth grade, and after a winter of being kept inside all the kids were excited to see spring arrive. Warmer weather led to exciting games of kick-ball, running around in the school yard and swinging about on the school’s playground equipment.
It’s also a time when the boys determine to correct ‘pecking order’ mistakes inflicted by a their teacher during the winter. Teachers have been known to make terrible mistakes in that regard.
