8th grade picnic today. We were very lucky there was no rain, though it threatened the entire three hours. We loaded up three buses and went down south of the Inner harbor to a cute little park in Locust Point, just before Fort McHenry. Our bus driver was unsure about the destination, and right outside the park he stopped and asked an old white man where the park was, and dude looked at the three buses of black kids and pointed us down the highway.
By the time we'd gone on and turned around and come back to the park the old man had disappeared, presumably to fetch his hood and sheet.
80-odd 8th graders from the March descended on a little playground full of white mothers and their tots. Ten minutes later all the white mothers and their tots were high-tailing it outta there and the 8th graders were on the teeter totters, the swings, and the monkey bars, talking about pussy and dick and dropping casual f-bombs and n***** this and n***** that. Mr. Fletch tried squawking at them: "you see them families? you see them little kids? Why you so rude? Why you drive them outta here? Act like you been someplace."
Then he turned to me and said "Shit, I'd run too if I saw these kids comin'!"
But aside from cursing and hogging the equipment the kids were delightful. They self-organized basketball and football games. They waited patiently in line as we prepared burgers and hot dogs, they only packed my shoes moderately. I only have one more week with them before (most) move on to high school.