Things We Say To Cover Up What We've Said

Right before I had left for vacation someone shot a plastic pepper ball my way; I had done what was expected of me, I followed the garbled directives shouted from a bull-horn, I laid flat on my stomach facing the wall—how was I to know being closer to the opposition would have been a better choice? The pepper ball bounced off the gymnasium floor, its outer shell shattering against the wall, shards of plastic and a white substance smelling like baby powder (definitely not pepper) landed within a foot of my torso. “They’re shooting at me,” I said to my comrades who knew enough not to move as far away from the enemy as I had.

It seems like such a long long time ago … and why shouldn’t it? … I had traveled to England, Sweden, Denmark, and Finland and now I’m home; my adventures bringing me full circle, right back to the prison classroom doing what I’ve been doing for the past 20-plus years: teaching Michigan’s undesirables.

“So,” one inmate asked me, “how many blacks did you see in Sweden?”

“About twelve,” I answered.

“What type of food did you eat?” another inmate wanted to know.

I told them about eating sandwiches for breakfast and pouring yogurt on cereal instead of milk. I told them about eating moose meat, wild boar, lobster, and crayfish. I told them about chocolate & coconut covered balls of cake, I told them in a barely audible voice, “They call'em Negro Balls” and before anyone could react I switched topics. I said, “I caught crabs in Sweden.”