As I write this note, it is approximately on Thursday, Sept. 18. I have just come in from taking out the garbage.
Now, as some of you know, my home backs up on to the Hans Andersen play lot. I love the location. I love the park. I dearly love the sound of children’s voices.
But not tonight.
It’s the start of the school year. The evening sky is settling into dusk. And just now my brain went into disconnect. I paused and counted over 50 grade school children, with a few teens thrown in, gaily playing.
Wait a minute … why are all those kids out there at this time of night when their noses should be stuck inside an arithmetic book?
The most disappointing aspect of this scene is that every last child was African-American. Throughout my white life, I have tried to understand the terrible plight of so many people who are separated and denied, simply because of the color of their skin. I have easily understood the discrimination that these good men and women have suffered. I have paid close attention to all the explanations regarding the plight of the child whose skin is dark. But, frankly, some of that talk is pure garbage. Bill Cosby was castigated when he spoke the truth. So was Barack Obama, simply for not going along with the mantra that African-Americans are victims-first, foremost, and forever.
That’s b.s.
When I see 50 children gaily playing in a small park in a middle class neighborhood when it is time for homework, there aren’t too many alternative conclusions to draw. Take responsibility, folks. Those are your kids and they do not belong in a play lot on a school night.
Sorry, but it’s true.
Paul Moroney
