Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Beat Whitey Night - And Kevin's Tale.

I know the incident occurred during my sophomore year in high school, because we had had open campus during my freshman year. Ryan and Charlie, both of whom had fathers on the school board both returned from lunch drunk during my freshman year, and so our campus became a closed campus. I wonder if any public high school in Texas, or anywhere else has an open campus at all anymore. I doubt it. The sick culture our media has created for us makes it all too easy for a child to return from lunch with a gun-should he have open campus, and so now our schools are all big time security laden places with metal detectors, and cops running around them. If you bother me, then I'll give you a list of our media overlords, so that you can thank them for this sickness. With any sort of intelligence at all, then you'd quickly notice from the list some not so shocking similarities that almost all of the media overlords possess.
Kevin was the one person in the school who pushed the personal appearance envelope as far as it could be pushed. He was and is about my height, but broader at the shoulders, and he was lifting weights then. He wore a black leather jacket often, even though it was probably too warm for it. On the jacket there were all the proper Punk and Metal patches sewed in place, Danzig, The Misfits, Black Flag,so forth, and so on. I didn't listen to that music then, but I became a fan in the time in between, and I still listen to some of those bands now, whenever the mood strikes me; and I happen to be absolutely positive that I've never once heard anything relating to white supremacy in any of that music. Kevin broke from the Glen Danzig imitation in that he didn't wear the "devil lock" hairstyle, he wore a Mohawk, maybe Henry Rollins had one of those at some point in time. I have no clue. What I do know is that Kevin didn't make eye contact with anyone, EVER, and if he did-then it probably wasn't a good thing for that person. Not only did Kevin not make eye contact with anyone-he didn't speak to anyone at all if he could help it, regardless of one's race.
So our campus was closed, and we had to endure lunch at the school. I always sat at the same table, and with the same people. John Lane, who has passed on, myself, and the Hanes brothers. After eating, we would stand outside the gym, discuss the never ending battle for supremacy between Ford, and Chevy, and admire the figures of the young ladies as they passed by-never speaking to us, or even honoring such as we with a glance. I don't think any of us ever gave a rat's ass for our classes then, and we'd be the last, typically, to return to the main building. I recall forever being in trouble for being late to class, and never once giving it a thought. It was on a day such as this, just after the bell rang signifying that lunch was over that "the incident" occurred.

That IS a t-shirt for Kaufman High School, Kaufman, Texas.
That IS a t-shirt for Kaufman High School, Kaufman, Texas.
There's my hometown!
There's my hometown!

Fair Fistfight Followed By An All Black Male Assault On One White.

"Hey Todd! Wait up," called Chad Hanes, then he motioned with his head and his eyes for me to notice that a fight was about to, maybe, take place. Nobody else was seeming to notice at all. What I saw was that "Ray Ray," a much larger, naturally muscular black boy a year ahead of myself, Chad Hanes, and Kevin-had squared off into a confrontational, intimidating position with the silent misfit.
Now, I suppose that I should take a moment to set some things in order. I make no bones about it-I was all for Kevin, but considered his chances to be VERY low here. He was so far and away the underdog that it's not even worth considering him to have had a chance.
Kaufman High School at that time was afflicted with a phenomena that disgusted me thoroughly-should you be a young, "white,"(I hate that lack of terminology-it's a piss poor description of a human, as is "black") girl on the cheer leading squad, then it seemed like you were obligated to be rumored to be sleeping with one of the blacks most likely to drop out, or one of the blacks who could run very fast with a football. I personally HATE football, and especially, I hate the way in which it is the unspoken priority, both then, and now, in many small town Texas school districts. Education is a distant second.
Now, go ahead and say it. "Todd, that's racist! You think there's something wrong with "white" girls dating "black" men!"
No, I couldn't care less. Read the paragraph again. That shit certainly bothered me then. Persecute 16 year old Wesman Todd Shaw all you want, and you'll certainly prove yourself as a fool.
As we jump back into what I call "the incident," Chad and I are becoming very excited, as Kevin has quickly proven that he's not one to be intimidated by a larger black male-he's just swung a right hook into Ray Ray's jaw, and knocked his entire head to the side, so that now Ray Ray's extremely shocked eyes are looking into my very excited green ones. Kevin isn't nearly done proving himself, and a barrage of punches continue to batter the black bully. It is at this point, when "the incident" truly began. Ray Ray has realized that he is about to become a complete failure in his quest to intimidate a misfit, and that he's for all intents and practical purposes lost a fistfight to a much smaller, less athletic, white boy who he thought was going to be easy meat.
"Hey Fellas!" The failure called, and I guess, behind me, virtually every black male at Kaufman High School has yet to make the return to the main building as well, and "the incident" is on.
What happened next boggles my young mind, and disgusts me to this very day-about 30 black males attacked Kevin in a clearly and undeniable racially motivated assault. Kenneth Cox, our Vice Principle-who was always in terrific shape, followed by, probably Coach Kelso, who wasn't in bad shape either quickly make the scene and end "the incident," pulling, semi-tossing, young black male bodies off the pile, and excavating the misfit, who was only guilty of standing up for himself, doing a damn fine job of it, and kicking the proverbial ass of an asshole who happened to underestimate him, and try to "punk out" a misfit.
"That's some hoe ass shit," I've jumped forward to the year 2010, and I'm telling my friend Kenny about "the incident," as Kevin has just left his property. Kenny might have spit on the ground even, and he's giving me a most thoroughly disgusted look which clearly implies that he thinks I should have jumped into the fray.
"I was fifteen or sixteen, Kenny, what's wrong with you? It's not like this happened last week." I'm protesting his disgust with me, and he's not buying it at all. I shouldn't have told him about the incident-because now Ken is going to attempt to hold the incident over my head. Oh well, screw it. Ken wasn't in jail with me when I had to get out of my bunk, loosen up, and prove myself against a young black man who thought he could pull that same sort of shit on ME, only to have an older black man convince him that "that white boy do have a heart." That young man stayed in his bunk, and tried to pretend he hadn't pushed all of my buttons.
And the aftermath??? Absolutely nothing. Now, I graduated high school in 1992, and it's easy to see that this all occurred years before the idea of "Hate crimes" entered our media deluded consciousness. If ever there was a hate crime, an act based upon racism, then surely this is it. I can not make not one single excuse for the actions of a mob of young black men here-what they did was thoroughly wrong, morally bankrupt, and altogether racist.
It is my, probably, unpopular bone of contention that "hate crime" legislation are inherently racist in exactly the same nature as "affirmative action." I'll stand next to a true African American leader such as Bill Cosby, and speak the truth about "affirmative action." If you ever hear of an incident in which someone is charged with a hate crime against a straight "white" male, then please let me know; and I'll revise this posting. Till then, accept the truth.


Kaufman High School

The Last Caress.

The Boxer

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