Un-Broken, the Untold Life of a Ghetto Bastard by de Angelo R. Moody

Author:de Angelo R. Moody [Moody, de Angelo R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780989112611
Amazon: 0989112616
Publisher: DMD Group, LLC.
Published: 2013-10-15T04:00:00+00:00

BUSINESS MATTERS

When the bus didn’t come, I hitchhiked to my first day of school at Harper’s Choice Middle School in Howard County, MD. JR had transferred me there for the last two months of eighth grade.

Harper’s Choice was unlike anything I had ever seen before. There was no trash anywhere. The walls were clean and nicely painted. Staff was everywhere. No police were on the grounds. When the bell rang to start the day, everyone went in right away. There were more white folks than I had experienced in Fort Bragg, NC. But unlike that racist experience, everyone here was cool. Black and white relationships were considered normal.

When I reported to the office, I was given my schedule and instructed to wait for my personal escort. A personal escort! He was a cool Asian cat who was on the honor roll. You had to make honor roll to be an escort.

I showed up for my first day at Harper’s Choice dressed in all black wearing a pair of head bangers with an attitude to match. Being new, I fully expected to be throwing my hands by day’s end. Instead, I was booking girls and being introduced to what they thought were other cool cats.

The culture was completely different at this school. Man, they even had fencing for gym. Fighting with swords, what! This would’ve never been allowed at any of the other schools I attended. They also had intramural sports after school like baseball, basketball, and flag football. This was great!

They didn’t find it cool if you were failing your classes or were in, what they called remedial classes. The students here were operating on a whole other level. Some of them even shuttled over to HCC, the local community college, for advanced study. I had never even heard of such a thing. Here I was, barely reading on a fourth grade level and spelling on a second grade level. Academically, I fit in about as well as a bull running around in a china store. I needed help. I was clearly a little black boy from the inner city and out of my league. My reading teacher pulled me aside and expressing her concern with my performance, she took me to the librarian. “Here he is.”

Up until that point I hadn’t been in the library. But, I had heard about the librarian: she didn’t take any mess off of any one. Clearly she was up in age, but very easy on the eyes. She looked more like an aerobics instructor than a librarian. Her library was nicer than the Martin Luther King Jr. library back in DC. There was no gum or writing on the tables or the walls, not one stain or scuff mark on the floors, and every light worked. Standing before me wearing a plain Jane button up blouse tucked into her peg legged trousers, and a pair of black tennis styled shoes, she offered to work with me everyday – no exceptions. The reading teacher

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