Ostrich's Have It Good.

So I'm on the commuter rail heading outbound to Fitchburg, right, and there is this group of teenagers sitting in the back of the car. I'm up front. Five minutes away from the Fitchburg station, the train's main engine goes out. The friendly, round, pink faced conductor informs us all that we now have to wait 30 minutes for another train to come in and tow us into the station.

So I'm kickin back with my new book and I have the unfortunate privelege of overhearing the conversation of a group of Black and Latino teenagers seated in the rear of the car. Shamed. And. Disgusted. If self hate had a commercial, these kids would be the Oscar winning actors.

The topic of their banter was the differences between "African black" and "regular black". Mind you, they were explaining all this to a white girl. According to these young people, "African black" was ashy, burnt and ugly. They all agreed that the ideal image was Latino looking- ie. light skin and eyes; wavy hair. African and Haitian were the worst kind of black you could possibly be. Are you upset yet? Don't be, cuz it gets better. So these young'ns are chatting and all of a sudden the "n*gga" fit must've hit one of them cuz he started dropping "n-bombs" after every other word. As I'm sitting in front of the train with some white folks listening in on all this I start to melt in my seat as shame and disgust burn up my insides. This was one of those times when I wished I was an ostrich. A big ole ostrich with my head in a hole. Well, these kids were speaking so loudly that they were heard in the next car over. Just then, our old friend the pink conductor comes storming through the car to my rescue. Yes, to my rescue. He says to the young man and all his counterparts that his language is not allowed on the train. "If it can't be said by 100% of the population, 100% of the time..." he doesn't want to hear it. "It's foul language, to me, I don't care who you are. I don't want to hear that word on this train again."

Now. Let's think about this for a minute. We all know self hate is about as rampant as herpes on a college campus but I guess it just hurts to see and hear it so loud and clear. Whenever I feel like we're moving forward, I hear some ignant stuff like that and I'm disappointed all over again. Yes, I am sensitive about the "n word". (For any of you who may not be aware of how out of control it's getting, check this out.) My tongue and lips haven't gotten together to form it in a long time and I cringe wheneverI hear it used by our people. (why is it worst when it's in front of white folks?) So big ups to Mr. Conductor for putting homeboy in his place. Although, I don't necessarily agree with his reasoning. It's kind of like a "if I can't say it, neither can you" type deal. But, I do respect his gully. Cuz you know what? How many of us can say we've done the same thing? I mean, really. Why aren't we putting these people in their places? Personally, I ask of those whom I surround myself with, not to use the word in my presence. Most of my peoples oblige or don't use the word at all themselves. But what about those we don't know? Those who haven't been so called "enlightened"? Those who are still Bamboozled? Who are we waiting for to educate them? To put them in their place. A pink faced conductor? Shouldn't that be our job? What will happen to our youth if we keep waiting on someone else to show them the light? What if no one comes?

I don't know the answers... that's why I'm asking ya'll. But. What I do know is, we're falling off. It's time to step up our game. It starts with one. If we don't do it, who will?