This is Tommie - My teachers.

My teachers hated me too, basically because I was uppity, my Dad never wanted us to use the phrases Yes, Sir or Yes, Ma’am. He saw those phases as terms of subservience. His children would be subservient to no one, my Dad was like an deep cover black panther or something, it’s like they recruited him to infiltrate the Man’s inner sanctum. We were trained to only answer with yes or no. There were a lot of times where teachers (mostly in the South) would sit there and try and force me to say Yes Ma’am. It was ridiculous, this lady could totally blow it off and spend her time enriching the minds of 19 other children but she would rather spend half her day trying to break me down.

I think this is partly where I get my ego from I was always going at it with adults for one reason or another and their reasons were always stupid. So I spent most of my early school age (4th to 8th grade) years defending myself against adults.

I think what my teachers hated the most is that I was right and I had no problems letting them know that I was right and that they were wrong. Generally this correction would happen in some sort of public display. See at home I could talk to my parents as “equals” so if I thought something was incorrect I could say, hey I don’t think this is right and then we would have a discussion about the situation. It wasn’t so much about me being right or wrong but my parents found critical thought important. Me being a naïve little kid thought everyone valued critical thought. Well, not so.

I remember one time while my 5th grade teacher is railing on me about this Yes, Ma’am/No, Ma’am bullshit and I’m in the back of my mind thinking isn’t this math time? I mean how foolish do you look when you at 35+ years old and you are getting into it with an 11 year old? I’d get sent to the office and the principle would call my Mom and tell her that I was being disrespectful in class. My Mom would have to come to the school and get in the Principle’s face and tell him straight up that I was not to say yes Ma’am or Sir to anyone. I’d always walk off with an “I told you that I didn’t have to do It.” smile. Even today when I say yes Ma’am or Sir it’s more of a sign of disrespect or humor (it’s a big inside joke) to me than it is a sign of respect. The funny thing about the South is that they put a big emphasis on respect but are the least respectful and least tolerant people I know.

On top of that I was smart. I knew things and I picked up things faster than the rest of the class. My teachers bored me. They were still trying to teach people how to fucking read and I've already read the whole book. People always told me I was good in history class, it wasn't that I was good it's just they were slow and I had already finished the book. Besides the one thing about history is that it already happened I mean how many times can you learn the Revolutionary War? The time it took the teacher to go over one chapter I had read four. It was like that with me in everything. Not because I was naturally smart it was because I was inquisitive I just wanted to know things just to know them.

It would have been easy for them to fail me if I gave them half a chance but, I never did I was honor roll all the time. My teachers underestimated me because I was Black. They equivocated Black with stupid and most teachers never learned how to work with me. I think they had a hard time adjusting their minds to the fact that Black people could have some sort of intelligence.

But, as I look at it today I don’t really blame the nimrods. I mean if you think about it 15 years earlier it was pretty much against the law for Blacks and Whites to stand in the same room together. Now they have this Black boy correcting her every 30 minutes. Man that had to be hard. But, you can only read so much so I'd spend my time drawing sometimes or making people laugh I was a class clown because let's face it everyone loves a buffoon. It was the only way I could get attention and they loved it when I was their clown. I mean true enough I'm a funny guy and all but they expected no more. When I was the clown I fit the pattern, shuckin’ an jivin’ that’s what they like to see. If you want to be rich and famous in this piece you better have a wicked hook shot, some jokes, a rap, or the trap. Fits the profile.

I think the major thing I learned from this time in my life is never underestimate anyone. Always meet someone with an open mind because you don't know what they know. Let someone show you what they know and go from there. When you assume on people you miss critical facts.