Ernest Hemingway:

As Ernest Hemingway once said...
'All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.'

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

a little lunch, a little kickball

Today I picked my little brother up for lunch and we had a picnic in the park (he's on spring break). Before we left his house, his granny told me he's been having some trouble at school. He's been getting into a few fights, and isn't on the honor roll anymore, and he won't talk to her about it at all (he lives with his granny). She said the music teacher told her she thinks he's just learning how to defend himself, and finally reacting like a normal boy - he's been picked on all his life, mostly because he's very small for his age, and because he's biracial.

It just about broke my heart, but I didn't want to show that, because we were talking right in front of him. I decided to let him pick wherever he wanted to get lunch, and talk about it later.

We got to the park, toted our food and my kickball to a spot in the sun where we set up the blanket, and ate our lunch. His kids meal came with a little toy, so he played with that for a while, and we talked a little bit about kickball. He loves kickball. Then I asked him if he had gotten in any fights lately. He said no, that all of that happened earlier this year. I asked him what he fought about, and he said the kids called him names. They called him 'white boy'.

I thought that was so stupid. What a dumb insult. He's definitely light skinned, but not white. I told him that was a silly thing to call him, and he said he ignores it now. Kids are mean - they've always been that way, and will into the future, I'm sure. It didn't seem to bother him to talk about it, so maybe he's just getting to the point where he realizes how dumb it is. I've never heard that before, though - calling a biracial kid 'white boy'. I told him they just do it to get a rise out of him. I know they don't do it expressly to be cruel - he's actually a pretty well-liked kid.

We had a blast, though. Somehow we managed to play a kickball game with just the two of us. The hour flew by, and I so did not want to come back to work. I could have stayed out there all day, lounging and playing kickball. More lounging than playing, though - I have horrible feet problems, and after 3 straight games last Sunday, I'm like an old woman. Muscles I didn't even know I had hurt after that. We won two of them, though, to move into second in our division. Good times.

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