Source Pg. 7 & 8
nothing. Some of the students
snickered. The boy took his seat, but he kept shouting ugly words at me
throughout the rest of the class. My heart was weeping, but I squeezed
back the tears. I squared my shoulders and tried to remember what Grandma
had said: "God loves you, child; no matter what, he sees you as his
precious idea."
Walking the gauntlet to my next
class was even more harrowing. I had to go out behind the school, through
the girls' dressing room, down a long concrete walkway, and onto the playing
field.
"You'd better watch
yourself," the guide warned as we moved at high speed through the hostile
students. As we went outside to the walkway in the back of the school, I
could hear the roar of the crowd in front of the school. It was even more
deafening than the jeers immediately around me.
On the playing field, groups of
girls were gathered tossing a volleyball. The teacher appeared to be a
no-nonsense person. With a pleasant smile, she pointed me to a spot near
the net and warned the other girls not to bother me.
"Let's keep the game going,
girls," she said in a matter-of-fact way. The girls paused for a
moment, looked at each other, looked at me, and then began tossing the ball
back and forth. For just one instant, I was actually concerned about
whether or not I could hit the ball and score. It took me a moment to
realize it was whizzing awfully close to my head. I ducked, but they hit
me real hard, shouting and cheering as they found their target.
And even as I was struggling to
escape their cruelty, I was at the same time more terrified by the sound of the
angry crowd in the distance. It must be enormous, I thought. How
would the police keep them back?
"Get inside, Melba.
Now!" The face of the gym teacher showed both compassion and alarm as she
quietly pointed to a group of women some distance away, jumping over the rear
fence as they shouted obscenities at me.
"Hurry!"
I started to run for my life.
"Nigger...nigger...,"
one woman cried, hot on my heels. "Get the nigger." Three
of them had broken away from the pack
and were gaining on me. I was running
at top speed when someone stuck out a foot and tripped me. I fell face
forward, cutting my knee and elbow. Several girls moved closer, and for
an instant I hoped they were drawing near to extend a hand and ask me if I
needed help. "The nigger is down," one shouted.
"She's bleeding. What do you know. Niggers bleed red
blood. Let's kick the nigger." I saw the foot coming my way
and grabbed it before it got to my face. I twisted it at the ankle like
I'd seen them do at the wrestling match. The girl fell backward.
As I scrambled to my feet, I
looked back to see the brigade of attacking mothers within striking distance,
shouting about how they weren't going to have me in school with their kids.
I ran up the stairs, hoping I
could find my way back to the office. With the mothers close on my heels,
shouting their threats, the twisted maze of the hallway seemed even more
menacing. I felt I could have gotten lost forever as I struggled to find
the door that led to the office and safety, opening first one, then
another. I raced through a honeycomb of locker rooms and dead-end hallways.
After several minutes of opening
the wrong doors and bumping into people who hit me or called me names, I was in
tears, ready to give up, paralyzed by my fear. Suddenly Grandma's voice
came into my head: "God never loses one of His flock." Shepherd,
show me how to go, I said. I stood still and repeated those words over
and over again until I gained some composure. I wiped my eyes, and then I
saw blood running down my leg and onto my saddle shoe. It was too
much! I pressed my thumb to the wounded area to try and stop the
bleeding.
"I've been looking for
you." The stocky guide's voice was angry, but I was so glad to see
her I almost forgot myself and reached to hug her. "And just where
do you think you are going? You are only supposed to travel through the
school with me." She looked at my leg, but said nothing, then looked
away.
"Yes, ma'am, but..."
"But nothing. Let's
go to shorthand class." She didn't know it, but she was the answer
to my prayer. I was so grateful for
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