Back in high school, as part of my school's program, we had to go into poor, ghetto neighborhoods and tutor students there. Although I seriously feared for my life I drove my new beetle (they were totally fashionable then) to the local inner city highchool after my calculus class. When I walked in to a deserted, and rather delapitated class room, I was surpised and DELIGHTED to see my tutee was a Somali boy around my age. YEY, I'd be giving back to my community!! As I walked closer my feelings of delight quickly evaporated: He was stretched out on his chair, his legs propped on the desk before him, fiddling with a silver pocket knife. My worry rose to higher levels as I examined his physical features: he had a huge frizzy afro, silver chains around his neck, wore very baggy jeans and a tupac shirt (I thought this to be particularly interesting since we were in the East coast and quickly concluded he was fresh off the boat) and he had a black stretchy cloth tied tightly around his head
We perfunctorily introduced each other -- his name was Jamac. I sat down beside him and took out the book he was reading for his english class: To kill a mockingbird.
me: "Okay, umm, which chapters have u read ?"
him: "I ain red no damn chapters!"
My mouth dropped open -- what a horrid way of speaking. Who taught him englsih ?
me: "but...I thought ....I mean, your english teacher said I had to help you analyze it."
him: "I'll analyze sh!t. I ain gon' read that damn nohvel"
me: "umm...why ?"
him: "shiiit, that stuff be fake. I ain gon read stuff that aint real. aint' no mockingbird in my hood. "
me: "but.."
him: "I mean...fickton...what da hell is that ? I ain't gon learn nothing."
me: "well, by reading fiction, you can develop your grammar skills and increase your vocabulary. This is important, particularly because you weren't born here"
him: "f*ck grammar, that be white people sh!t. and What da f*ck do ya mean I wasn't born here ?"
me: "....and fiction can really shed some insight on society in general..."
him: huh ?
me: "....and although the stories and characters themselves might not be real, authors of fiction have been known to really shed some light on human nature"
him: "damn b!tch, you be tryin' to be white. "
me: "what ?"
him: "you probably like white di.."
me: "Omg. stop!"
him:"ick"
I stood up angrily and marched backed to my beetle and left. two months later I found out he was shot dead in a gang fight, in the head. I never really had the opportunity to help him, but I can try to help all misguided Somali youths by telling this story
