Lessons to the Unprivileged

I tell my sonnot to angerat injustice—teach himto have a poker face—bluff his emotions,hide the gritting teeth,crinkling eyebrows,relax his clenching fists—not to react, butto quiet his eightyear-old senses.

I tell my sonto observeeach environmenthe enters, surveythe eyes probing him,heed the voicesmurmuring his name—connecting personalitiesto chess pieces,predicting patternsto employengaging tacticsto his tenyear-old judgment.

I tell my sonSociety's first sightof him draws decrees—a community's normspaint himas a thief—trouble—threateningtheir schools,jobs, neighborhoods—prudence has me teachhim to dress sharp, smileoften, politely speak—to engage opportunitiesthrough doors that—choose—to slam shut.