Walk With Purpose

...So Daddy's been working with some African American junior high/high school kids in Hollis, Queens, who are writing and performing their own show. As we rehearsed this week, I yelled at them (Or spoke firmly, maybe) because they drag their feet as they walk into place onstage (or off):

Walk with purpose, guys. We don't have all day. Look like you know where
you're going, and go there. Hold your head up...Pick up your feet...Walk in
a straight line; don't meander. You're killing me with this...

...Today my partner gave me his keychain gym passport so that I could go to NYSC and do some treadmilling. But I'm not a member there. Won't they check? His response:

No one will notice you. They're always doing something else when I come
into the gym. Just walk with purpose past the front desk into the gym and
they'll never know.

...Reminds me of the time, shortly after we met, when I first visited him at his high-rise apartment building at 63rd and York:

Just walk with purpose past the front desk and come up to the 26th floor.
Security won't stop you.

...Daddy remembers being stopped by security guards. My humanity didn't fool them. There I was, all black and stuff - just covered in lousy blackness - having the pre-9/11 nerve to try to walk to the elevators without showing my ID. The security guards were all black, so they knew Daddy didn't live there. And why would Daddy be coming into the building on a Friday night, all brazen and shit?

...Makes me wonder if my black kids in Hollis walk with little purpose because they don't want to be accused of stealing identity, or just plain stealing, or worse yet - having a purpose.

...Nope, Daddy aint going to NYSC today. And when my partner asks me why, I'll tell him:

Because I'm Black.