rarely got any education. They were needed to work on the farm, and had no time for school. As a result my grandmother went to school up to the seventh grade, but my grandfather never mentioned attending any school.
My mother and grandparents verbally painted a picture of how going to this new school was going to take my way of thinking and learning to a new level. They encouraged me to take advantage of this opportunity that they were never afforded. Eventually, I realized I did not have a choice.
The First Day
The rest of that summer of 1969 went too quickly, and before I knew it, I was walking through the doors at Royce Elementary. Gathering my courage, I glanced around at the other children. My heart leapt into my throat: No one looked like me.
I was welcomed into the classroom by my fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Higgins, a very tall white lady with jet-black hair. Mrs. Higgins introduced me to my class and explained that I came from another school. After the introduction there was a dead silence—everyone was staring at me as though I were a zoo animal. Then the whispering started. I tried to block out the whispers and remember what my grandfather had told me: “You put your pants on the same way everyone else does, and there is no one that is any better than you. You get what you came there for, an education.” My grandfather was great at phrasing words that kept me focused and motivated.
I initially dreaded going to recess and lunch. I just wanted to get through my classes and go home, never to return again. However, I knew that was not going to happen. Like it or not, I would have to mingle and try to assimilate into this new school environment. I also understood that it was just a matter of time before racial names would come to the surface. Well, it didn’t take long enough. I was called names like nigger lips, spear chucker, spook, and a host of other degrading descriptors. My parents had taught me that if someone punched me, I could punch them back—but I should never start a fight over someone’s words. So, I took the name-calling and just let the anger build up inside of me.
A Challenge
Three weeks into the school year, things started to change. One day at recess, I was standing by the basketball court when a sixth grader approached me and challenged me to a game of one-on-one. Now, this sixth-grade boy was probably one of the most popular kids in the school. I happily accepted his challenge, for I was fortunate to have been blessed with athleticism and the ability to play basketball at an early age. My mom’s brother, Uncle Everett, had played with the Harlem Globetrotters and Harlem Magicians in the late 1950s and early ’60s, and in the 1970s he had started his own team called the Broadway Clowns. When I was five years old, he began teaching me the fine art of basketball fundamentals and showmanship.
Uncle Everett was not only a mentor to me athletically, but socially as well. But I probably give my brother, Steve, the most credit for my basketball abilities. I always wanted to beat him, and he would never let me. Steve gave me no special treatment, and he was very hard on me when we played basketball. There were times when I hated him for it, but when I look back now, I realize that all those years of playing with my brother helped make me both mentally and physically tough.
When I was five, my father and grandfather cut out a backboard made of wood, added a wooden pole, cemented it into the ground, and, after attaching a rim and net to the pre-cut wooden backboard, we had a basketball court. Playing on that makeshift basketball court into the darkness of night were some of the happiest times of my life. The game would consist of Uncle Everett and me against my father and brother and cousin Kim. Uncle Everett and I would always win because he did all the hard work and created wide-open shots for me.
SWISH
Three Years Old And Shy As Can Be
All Confused, But There’s Love In The Family
My Teddy Bear (Brownie) Is My Only Friend
Mom Is Always With Me From Beginning To The End
Started In An Urban School
Yeah, It’s Mostly Black
School Board Votes Integration
White School Says Go Back
Confusion Is Back Again
White Children Call Me Names
Do They Really Hate My Race?
Or Are Their Parents To Blame?
I Became A Loner
Finding Peace Within My Space
Learning One Thing Daily
That It’s A Cold, Cold Human Race
But I Came Across A Basketball
Not Trusting Anyone
Uncle, Dad, And My Brother
Showed Me How It’s Done
Things Come So Natural
With The Ball In My Hand
Swishing Nets And Fancy Dribbles
This I Understand
Prejudice And Pain
Could Not Turn Me For A Loop
I Found Peace Of Mind
Whenever I Shot The Hoop
Acceptance Is Achieved
By The Talents You Possess
Keep Believing, Not Deceiving
And You Will Pass The Test
Life Is What You Make Of It
It Can Be A Very Hard Mission
But To Make The Road A Little Easier
Hold On To Your Religion.
I felt I was special at the age of five scoring the winning basket on my Uncle Everett’s team. These games went on for many years. So when this sixth-grade boy challenged me at recess, I was more than ready to accept. For the first time at Royce Elementary, I felt I had an edge over my fellow classmates.
When the one-on-one game started, I was doing fancy dribbles, trick shots and a lot of smack talking about how I was going to beat my opponent. All of a sudden, I looked up and noticed the crowd. Students of all ages, and even a few teachers, had gathered and were cheering for me as I was taking it to Mr. Sixth Grader. I was excited because people were enjoying watching me play basketball. Heck, I was entertaining the masses.
After that day on the basketball court, students of all ages and grades started treating me differently. I wasn’t Tony the black kid anymore—I was Tony the basketball player. Students started seeing me as something other than a minority.
Things Always Happen on Time
As the school year went on, a few other black students enrolled at Royce. I was excited to see other students of color, but most did not stay very long. Some were suspended for fighting, and others left in discouragement when they found they just could not fit in at a white school.
