because she's white
Monday, Jun. 16, 2003 9:45 p.m.
Viola bridges start at about twenty dollars. A good one can be one to two hundred dollars. I learned that staggering fact yesterday.I had myself an insteresting conversation because of my viola yesterday. As I waited for the bus to get to the music store, I was approached by a man with a broken left arm. "Hello," he said to me. "Hello," I replied, not knowing what else to say. He looked at my case, "What instrument do you play?" "Oh, I play the viola," there was a momentary pause, "It's like a violin, but it's a little bigger and a bit deeper." "I know what it is," he replied. "Do you play in an orchestra?" "Well, I play for my high school." He looked rather surprised, "Oh, I didn't know you were still in high school. What school do you go to?" "Well, I go to a school on Bryn Mawr and Kedzie." He looked away for a moment and started to concentrate heavily, until finally, "That's Northside Prep!" "Yes sir, you're correct." "Yeah, my best friend's daughter applied to that school, she's real smart and she tested in the 97 percent in math for her class but she didn't get in." "I'm sorry sir," I didn't have the heart to tell him that I scored in the 99th percentile in all of the subjects. "Do you know why she didn't get in?" He looked me straight in the eye, "It's because she's white." The conversation took an alarming turn. He breathed a little faster, "Yeah, she's white and they didn't let her in. But they let in hispanics and black people that scored lower than she did." The alarms in me were going beserk, and I really had no idea how to deal with this situation. I could feel him get angrier with each word he uttered, yet I doubt he even realized that he was talking to an hispanic. I replied, "I know a lot of people that don't deserve to be there," I was referring to myself, "and I'm sorry about what happened to your friend's daughter." He calmed down a little, "I'm sure you're a real smart guy and get really good grades, you must really like it in there." I looked away, "I'm having the time of my life." Right then, then bus came. The man, Thomas, had to go back inside to finish his shift in the auto shop. We waved to each other when I sat down. He says I'm smart and I get good grades, and he assumed that just through a conversation with me. How little he knows. But, I'm a Northsider, therefore my "reputation" precedes me.
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