Like the kids selling candy on the train, I realize after about three years of college still, I am just staying out of trouble.
After leaving Hampshire, I am finally home. Chilling on the cozy warm couch, watching tv, using my computer, I hear shots fired. “Oh, its been a while” I think, as I grow flatter on my couch. I decide that the sounds were imaginations or not significant but then I hear a crowd. Some yells, screams, and sirens later I finally convince myself that it wouldn’t be cold outside if I put on my coat. A castle of paramedics and cop cars control the corner. It was a mix of excitement and anger, the angriest were the youth. Unable to get a full story, I am convinced that something was wrong and the police were to blame. The collective tension was broken by night sticks and random stop and frisk in the front of the church. My father waits by the door and tells me to stay on the porch but he doesn’t dare ask me to stay inside. As soon as the cops leave he is able to start his night hawk shift at the bus depot. I finally step inside, it was mad cold. I thought about how should document this moment and how this experience should be carried with me to Cuba. So thats why I decided to write it in this blog.
7 months ago
