Inferiority Complex

School can damage a man. This is especially true for young black men. I remember a couple of awkward encounters with teachers in high school that could have been damaging. An English teacher, who I had a great relationship with, told me to dumb down my essays because the way in which I wrote wasn't "authentically black." Before I graduated, another teacher who knew me well was shocked that I got into my second choice for college. Instead of congratulating me, he marveled at my acceptance as if I didn't deserve to get in. Both situations motivated me, but I've met others (like Red) who lost the psychological battle.

Red was incredibly intelligent. At some point in elementary school, he was tracked into Special Education because he got in trouble too often. Along with being placed into remedial courses, Red earned the classification of "BD" (behavior disorder). The tracking lingered through high school. Even though Red and I were good friends, we never took classes together because he was mired in low level classes. Students were literally throwing chairs in those classes.

He always complained that his classes were too easy, but refused to move up because the workload was so light. The only evidence of bad behavior I saw from him occurred twice, and in those instances he was rightfully suspended. Both infractions occurred outside the classroom (one of which was of the really stupid variety), however. Beyond that, it seemed to me that he had a great relationship with his teachers. Through our friendship, I never got the sense that Red had a problem that should be labeled as a disorder.

Like Red, I was tracked into courses that weren't challenging during my Freshman year. In my case, however, I continually sought to move up. During my junior year, a groundbreaking conversation with my girlfriend lead me to take a bigger leap into Honors level courses. Even though I had advocated to move from "Basic" to "Standard" level courses from freshman to sophomore year, I hesitated to take Honors courses because it seemed to be the "white thing to do"

Thankfully, my girlfriend challenged that ridiculous perspective. I was happy to have her encouragement, but it was difficult to go from being one of many black students in a classroom to the lone soldier in my new classes. I contemplated going back to my comfort zone, but chose to stay the course. Although unintended, a conversation with Red really fueled my desire to excel at the Honors level.

Red: Now you're with all the white kids. Hahaha. I'm good with all that.
Me: The classes aren't hard. It's just more homework. You should try it. I think you could do it.
Red: Nah. I'm straight. 
Me: Why not?
Red: I don't wanna be with all them white kids.
Me: That's just bogus. You should really think about it.
Red: In all honesty, between me and you, you really think we're as smart as the white kids?
Me: Of course! Why wouldn't I feel that way?
Red: There's a reason their hands are always up in class. They're smarter!