The first time I was called ‘Nigger’
One of my earliest memories of Alameda was first time someone called me a "Nigger." I was a first grader. I was playing outside our apartment on Central Ave when a white boy kept calling me Nigger, like an incantation.
I don't think i fully understood the word or its history, but I was upset, even angry. But I did what many little prepubescent Black boys would do: I went home and told my mama.
Mom listened to me, as i probably talked a mile a minute, trying to explain what happened and maybe why i felt so upset. She calmed me down and consoled me. Then, she told me to go back outside. But first she armed me with ammunition, a list of words i could use–"Cracker", "honky", "ofay", "redneck", "white trash", etc.–for when i encountered the boy again.
When the kid called me Nigger again (of course, he couldn't help himself, i'm sure) I unleashed my laundry list of insults.
So, he went and told his mama. His mother came to our house and told my mama. Moms told her the backstory, and had some words about her, you know, raising a racist and all.
When i think back my first known encounter with racism–at least a slur–i always wonder: why didn't i whoop dude? (i later did, a couple times, but for somewhat unrelated reasons). Also, in hindsight, I don't really recall ever being called Nigger again.
So, the only time someone ever called me Nigger, i learned that crackers hate being called peckerwoods! Ruffles the feathers.
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