“Hello, I’m Pooh,” she said by way of introduction as she offered her hand to the young man campaigning for class president.
“Well, I’m very glad to meet you. I’m Christopher Robin,” he replied.
That was it. She was interested, smitten, intrigued. At first they just talked and talked and talked…. Talked for hours on the phone late into the night. Talked about politics, religion, science fiction, poetry, computers…
They meet in the park, hidden away in the trees, they sneak in a few kisses laced with the milk they had for lunch. He tentatively fondled her breast. He was smooth, but shy.
They meet again – this time at the local movie theater. They sit in the back of the balcony and hold hands. The movie was Romeo and Juliet. The movie had a strong meaning for them since they were of a similar age to the leading characters and they knew they were fighting a similar battle. That’s why they were sneaking around.
Her mother picked her up in front of the theater after the show. She was crying, sobbing really. She was crying for Romeo and Juliet. She was crying for herself and her new found love… a forbidden love. The love Martin Luther King talked about in his speech… “Where little black boys… join hands with little… white girls…” and no one shoots them or hangs them from a tree or calls them names that she is not allowed to say… or calls her parents to tell them, “I saw your daughter with a colored boy in the theater today…”
And she doesn’t deny it. In fact, she is adamant about it. Her parents call the principal and the counselor, and they sign her up to see a psychologist. “Why are you ruining your life? You have every advantage going for you. If you will just stop seeing this boy, your parents will let you off restriction.”
“Well, I’m not going to stop! I’ll never stop! I don’t care if I’m on restriction until I’m eighteen! My parents are hypocrites! How can they say on the one hand that they think Sammy Davis Jr. and May Britt make a a lovely couple? And that they think there is nothing wrong with mixed relationships, but then on the other hand, Not my daughter?! I love him and I am NOT going to break up with him!”
The psychologist continues, “You are throwing away your life. You come from a white middle class, well educated family. You have all the potential of success at every turn. You are beautiful, talented and intelligent. You can go to college, marry a lawyer….”
“Maybe Clark will be a lawyer?” She responds. “He is smart and talented too. He already works on computers after school and on the weekends and he’s only sixteen!” She would not budge on this. It wasn’t like he was some low brow thug, good for nothing. He was class president and a genius!
The psychologist just sighs and shakes his head. She has a point after all. Everyone tries to talk to her: her aunt, the counselor, her teachers, the principal, and even her friends… “My mom doesn’t want me to hang out with you anymore, ” her best friend tells her.
It is 1965. Barack Obama is just a boy. She is on the same wave length as Ann Dunham. She could have been his mother!!
(First published 10/21/11)
