Shoes ; by Abby

Author’s Note:

  When I was researching Dr. Martin Luther King, I came across two stories that truly intrigued me. I thought that they had feelings people could relate to, so I combined them into this story. Hopefully you will feel what I believe MLK felt that day. 

 

    I was a small boy, but I understood the world in the South.

    The bells jingled loudly when we stepped inside. The room smelled like rubber. I needed shoes for church, so my father and I sat near the dress shoes. “Which ones should I get?” I questioned.

     ” How about those snazzy brown ones.” my father chuckled. A few minutes passed before a clerk came over to us. She was white. Her bright blonde hair curled at the bottom, and bounced when she spoke. In her most cheerful voice, she calmly asked us to move to the chairs on the other side of the room. I knew why.

    A year earlier, I had a friend I used to play baseball with. A couple months before school started, they weren’t at the field. They never missed a game. I went to their house to see if they were okay.

    Their mom answered the door. ” Can Billy and John come out to play?” I asked. Mrs. Doe knelt down and smiled, ” Billy and John can’t play today.” I asked if they were okay. She told me they were fine. Mrs. Doe always spoke to me with a tint of disgust. Then she said, quite bluntly actually, ” They can’t play with you because you’re black.” They were white also. Mrs. Doe stood there, looking impatient. Billy and John were in the kitchen behind her. Billy waved and smiled. John snarled and slapped his hand. He murmured something in Billy’s ear and pulled him out of the kitchen.

    I said goodbye and trudged off. I cried the way home.  My brain was racing. I didn’t understand what she meant. I was brown, not black. My driveway was black, my dog was black, but not me. I was dark brown, like chocolate. I told my mom. She explained things to me.

       So as you can see, I knew why. My father shook his head. He didn’t want to move. In a blunt voice, he said ,” There is nothing wrong with these seats. I do not have to move.” The clerk’s voice crackled as she said, “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave if you don’t move to those seats.”

    ” Then I’ll leave.”

    We walked out heads high, wills as strong as ever, but in my heart, I sighed. I understood the world in the South.

     When I march, I still see that Mother’s  face, impatient and disgusted. And I see the clerk’s face, scared and confused. And I fight to prevent this from happening to any innocent black person, or any innocent white person.

Afterword:

     As we all know, Martin Luther King grew up to be a famous civil rights leader,who was tragically assassinated on April ,4, 1968, not even making it to his 40th birthday.  This is just one story of prejudice, that may have shaped the character of Martin Luther King. Segregation and discrimination were common in the South in the time period the story is set in. And unfortunately, the children who grew up in that time knew nothing better, so John and Billy , and many more unsuspecting white children, probably kept the hate alive, thus pushing back hope for the black people. And their children probably, even in this society, feel the racial tension formed hundreds of years ago. And if we stop it now, we can save our next generation of leaders, presidents, and most of all, parents.