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/etext__/violence/violence3.txt MYSTIC, Conn. 1982. RACE RIOT; FITCH SENIOR HIGH SCHOOL. I will use first names only. Jasmine was dating Darryl. Darryl's Afrikan Amerikan; Jasmine Puerto Rican. Darryl has a twin brother named Deane. On the basketball court they were given the nickname Heckel and Jeckel. Back then I never thought there was much harm in it. They didn't seem troubled by it either. Craig is White (or "Anglo you could say...) and he also has a twin brother Carl. I swear I'm not making any of this up. I don't have to. All are seniors with me that year. Or was Jasmine a Junior? No she was our age. Craig and Carl would taunt Jasmine endlessly without mercy from fall 81 until early 82. (maybe February? many details lost to time and cobwebs and all that) Terms like "niggerlover," and "oreo cookie" were used just about every day for months. 5TH PERIOD. Lunch. I ate "second wave" of three and had a studyhall first and third. It was "first wave" and I was walking by the cafeteria to get to the men's room when it began. I'll make a long story medium sized here and write you the rest some other time. Craig or Carl called Jasmine a "niggerlover" again but this time was different. Darryl or Dean was right near and actually heard it. They'd said they'd kick some serious ass if they ever heard it. Only it wasn't one of the brothers who began to rumble. Jasmine grabbed racism by the throat and said, "call me that one more time I'll kick your ass." Well she got punched in the head and then all hell broke loose. I don't remember who hit who, who pulled out what weapons, etc., but the thing blew over to a major standoff that was far from peaceful, but at least seemed civil within 10 or 15 minutes. At least it felt like it. Maybe a little longer. Shortly after that, about 40 local uniformed police officers filed in looking all like Dudley Dooright asking a million questions and spreading additional fear all over the place for another day and a half or so. Thanks a lot people! Too little and too late, and the WRONG energy, but no one's ready to discuss THAT, are we? NEXT DAY Same first wave study hall. Tom brought in a huge wad of cotton balls he's glued together to look like real cotton freshly picked. Nice try guy. He's tossing it in the air and catching it demonstratively saying, "niggers should all pick cotton," over and over like a mantra. His eyes seem really glazed over and he looks like he's in some kind of a trance. "What the hell are you doing?" I ask him. He doesn't answer, just tunes me out. "Dork," I say before walking away and finding a seat farther away from him this time. I reflect on the fact that Leon, who I'd considered my 4th closest friend in all of life had just informed me that he and Tyrone would have to ignore me in the hallways for a very long time at least until this all blows over. Please to not be offended if I yell "hi" and he just tunes me out. He argued with his older brother about it all night he tells me, he really wanted to risk staying friends, but alas it could not be. None of us are advanced enough yet, I told him, and that I'd try to understand. I look back at how sappy it sounded, but can't have known how wise the both of us had been for the moment. The city's response matched perfectly with that of the county and state board of ed. Come to think of it, a perfect 1984 foreshadowing of the Clintonian police- state that I'm sure evolved in steps over time. "More cops." Hundreds of thousands of more cops to all our cities and towns. Every four years it's the same wrong answers to the same wrong questions. More cops. Police decided their problem was having headquarters based too close to junior high and not close enough to the high school. By 1983 they'd built a brand new compound directly across the street. We immediately began calling it our newly remodeled public detention annex. My last months at school were hell. I befriended two different young men "my age" those months. Twice I was asked to never tell anyone they HADN'T in fact moved from some other school district and they were NOT 17 years old. Truth be told they were 20-30, posing as young-looking students to carry out detective work. 10 YEARS LATER 1992 - Despite twice as many undercovers in the classrooms, and armed uniformed cops 24/7 in the hallways, there was another race riot. I'd just returned to my hometown for a year or two about a week after it all went down. I couldn't believe what I was reading in the papers and hearing around town. This riot was shorter but scarier in that there was much more weaponry involved. And just as is always the tradition in "the north," even though it was racially driven, no one discusses that out loud. And does anyone besides me think what's even more frightening is the very cops going around showing off heavy artillery everywhere they go? Well I went up there to visit the school principal. I suggested to him that if there's going to be anyone carrying weapons of any kind allowed on school property, both uniformed and undercover, I believed with all my heart that there should be at the very least an equal amount of unarmed adults trained in non-violent conflict resolution at all times. This is the only way to keep things from escalating. And I was willing to commit my spare time getting a program started around that philosopy. The principal, who was friends with my dad had three sons on the same Little League team as me. I'd looked up to him for all my growing up years, and he said he thought my idea was just the wackiest notion he'd ever heard, and suggested that I get involved in weekly PTA meetings if I really wanted to help. He told me they were going to triple the amount of undercover, and he said they were in the process of trying to get the town to agree to budget for one additional uniformed armed cop in the hallways even though he'd prefer about 3 more. And there, he thought he could count on me. He said they could use an articulate young man like me to swing the rest of the town his way. Ummm. Sorry Mr. Principal. No can do. You might as well have asked me to donate money to the KKK, become a secret DARE officer or pick up weapons myself!!! I remember jogging home thinking "I don't WANNA K N O W what 2002's race riot will be like."