George Washington's Birthday

Playground

Recess, that moment when we spilled out the door
into the free air and sunshine of the expansive open
running loose, playing games in small groups.

But there was one particular day
as clear now as it was half a century ago
when something shifted. 

There was a bifurcation.
Maybe an announcement by the principal I missed?
There were now two: black and white.

Hey, you cannot play with us,
my friends said.  You have to go over there
and be with the white kids.


ABC

 Walter was plainly different,
something gone wrong in the womb,
we all felt for him and treated him kindly.

The teacher was a power addict
I sat in front, teacher's pet.
Until the day she called on Walter.

We looked around,
why call on Walter,
sweet, simple Walter?

Come on Martin, you must know something.
How about your ABCs?
Come up to the front and recite your ABCs.

It was all about  humiliation.
 Walter knew, as we all did, he was not smart.
We watched in horror as Walter stood in front of the class.

 Walter stood rigid, his lower lip quivering.
He started to recite, but then stopped.
Tears streaming down his face-- why are you doing this?

OK Walter, you can sit down,
the teacher was satisfied.
The inferiority of blackness demonstrated.

We rushed out for the ten minute break,
crowded around, come-on, we all know you know.
And proudly he stood before us, and recited.


Shondra

Shondra was tougher than most,
her hair lost to some accident, she wore a wig
that the boys snatched off in the cloak room.
Only once, because she fought them savagely.

She was quiet and alone,
never spoke to anyone,
I was afraid of her,  as was the teacher
who never called on her.

George Washington, the father of our country.
Today we celebrate his birthday.
Astonished we turned to see,
Shondra, her hand thrust high.

Anxiously, the teacher called her,
and Shondra stood up to object:
But George Washington had slaves!
Lots of people had slaves back then, came the reply.

The class went crazy.
Kids were saying: we didn't have slaves, we were slaves!
That was the moment I learned
the voices of authority lie.

Death of Galileo

Since 1642 a Ponderosa Pine stood
on a ridge halfway up the Pino trail
in the Sandia Mountains
looking over the majestic westward expanse,
leading to the Great Divide.

Dead now, it has joined a hillside 
of blackened  brethren succumbed
to bark beetle blight
accelerated by drought and rising temperature
apparent to all who walk these woods.

Too much carbon in the atmosphere
our industrial disease.
Read about it in some newspaper,
or look out the window,
or notice the silence of vanishing birds.

The powerful never want us to believe our eyes.
Galileo. who urged the Bishops to look into his telescope,
and see the moons circling Jupiter,
just like the planets orbiting the sun.
Forced to recant by the Roman inquisition.

The heliocentric idea, already one hundred years old,
What scared the powers that be?
Copernicus’s compendium written in Latin.
Galileo’s dialogue printed in Italian
and available at the corner book store.