I think I got jumped tonight.
You’re probably wondering how anyone could be uncertain as to whether or not such a distinctive event had indeed occurred. The answer: my assailants were a group of 6th graders.
I was walking from my school to the bus stop, minding my own business, walking down the hill past the school my roommate works at. I walk this way every day, and have walked this way later in the evning than today (it was about 7pm, by the way) without ever encountering even a dirisive comment.
But not on this day. A group of kids kind of blocked off my path, and started making fun of my shoes. They were blue, and the rest of my clothes were brown and tan. I had tan shoes on, but had traded them out for something more comfortable – not that this is an important detail. The kids would have found some fodder for ridicule had it not been for that. After making jokes about my shoes, they started calling me cracker, etc. From where I was standing, I could see that there was no bus coming. And since my adversaries were so small, I decided to have some fun with this. I walked right through them, then turned around and just kind of stared blankly. The bunch of shorties continued to harangue me, and one, who seemed to be taking on more the role of a ring leader, snuck behind me and took the buttons off my bag. With great pride, he showed them to me, and then threw them on the ground. I bent to pick them up, and he started jumping up and down on them. Unphased and feeling daring, I asked whether they had done their homework. I got my intended effect – they all started laughing at me. But I jumped right on top of it, saying that I bet they were laughing because that was easier than admitting they were probably two years behind grade level and were really just picking on me to cover up their shame. I then offered to teach them how to read, as I had the time.
Obviously, they were pissed, but one of the older, quieter kids who was slumping against the wall asked “are you a teacher or something?” I first thanked him for being respectful, and then informed him that I was a high school teacher at the school around the block. The ring leader asked if I was going to have my kids come get them, but before his friend could laugh I did. “Would you beat up people that picked on your teacher, little guy?” Leader silenced, friends laughing on my side.
Then the conversation took a turn up. I ended up talking to the kids about where I was from, and why I had on a ripped jacket, and explained why white people like myself were in the Bronx in the first place. My continual disposition throughout the encounter was cool, collected, and respectful, although I’ll admit to being a little amused at first and a little aggressive when the leader, somewhere in there, took a flying leap and actually punched me in the top of the head. “Is it raining?,” I asked his friends in reaction.
By the end of that conversation, I told the kid I’d identified as “the leader” that he had natural leadership qualities – and that he needed to find a way to get paid and get respect for them, instead of just provoking the ire of people who were minding their own business. They’re kids, so I won’t pretend to say I effected a long-term difference, but by the time the bus came I left to handshakes and pounds.
—
Cherry on top! I called me roommate to tell her about this, and she stopped me two seconds in. “Did the leader have on a black hoody with red and yellow skulls on it?” As a matter of fact, he did, I indicated. “Walter!” The second-worst kid in my roommate’s class assaulted someone who isn’t such a stranger after all. Small world, eh?
