a school experience

I come from Milwaukee by way of Minneapolis, to settle here in this valley of heat.
I went to kindergarten in an old brick schoolhouse, called by the name of Brown Street.
I don’t remember much ‘bout grades 1 thru 3, those years are rather blank.
But I know by the time I hit 4th grade, things were rather stank.

See I was one of the privileged few, there was Janie and Audrey, two boys & I.
We were given preferential treatment, and I never thought to consider why.
When there were more kids than chairs in the room, the window sills became extra seating,
But Janie and Audrey, two boys and I, never found seats to be something we were needing.

The teacher’s attention as well as books, were also of a premium commodity.
Enough to go around was not the standard, but mos definitely the oddity.
It was only during flu season, when half the class was sick.
That we all had a book, the teachers attention, and even a seat to pick.

Now I can understand becoming overwhelmed, in class sizes exceeding thirty-eight.
One teacher can’t possibly teach that many, that issue I won’t debate.
No my issue is the criteria the teachers used, that made me one of the chosen few.
It may seem I’m biting the hand that fed me, but I’ve had a lot on which to chew.

When it comes to my early grade school education, it was ‘ghetto fabulous’ one might say.
Almost like being in private school, for which Janie & Audrey, two boys & I, didn’t pay.
And even though there were three or four classrooms, all teaching the same grade,
The five of us were never split up, together we always stayed.

It culminated when our fifth grade teacher, taught us second semester work.
Said that being in a class with both semesters, for us, was an added perk.
But the other 33 plus kids in the class, how did THEY make it through?
They stumbled along without much guidance, his notice they rarely drew.

Unless of course a fight broke out, or something for which he had to pay attention.
Other than that, he robbed those kids of direction, while steadily adding to his pension.
So now I as one of those chosen few, out of classes exceeding thirty-eight,
Have the ability to speak the King’s English, conjugate verbs, and keep decimals straight.

But how did my classmates fare down the road, with so little preparation,
When their questions went unanswered, ‘cuz the teachers were building my foundation?
There’s all this talk, it’s politically correct, to say Affirmative Action’s outlived its time.
While those of us who have benefited from racism, refuse to acknowledge the crime.

The Janie’s and Audrey’s, the boys & I, need to come forward, admit receiving special treatment.
‘Cuz our hair is straight, our eyes are light, and our skin is missing some pigment.
Now we’re not talking 100 years ago, just three decades past so I’m here to tell,
That ‘separate but equal’ may have been illegal, but together and unequal was alive and well.

At least it was in the old brick schoolhouse, called by the name of Brown Street.
But my guess is if an award was given, there’d be a whole lot of schools to compete.
‘Cuz the thing I keep learning as I progress through life, is that I am not unique.
So other folks like me who received preferential treatment, need to stand up and speak.