The Day Life Got Real

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
This story is about to African American Males having a conversation about the ghetto and life. The setting is at a mentoring session.

Submitted: July 14, 2012

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Submitted: July 14, 2012

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"I was one of the kids living in the ghetto, but now I grew up too make as much as any celebrity would." "Scuse me?" "Yes youngman go ahead." The boy looked at the man with a straight face and said,"Ion understand Niggas like you." The man looked at the young man that sat before him. The boy looked to be about 14 or 15. The man looked at the boy and said,"Can you repeat that?" The boy sat up and looked the man in his eyes as the other group of young men sat and listened, "I say Ion understand niggas like you." The man stared at the boy, something about him reminded him of his self and even his oldest son. The man asked him to explain what he meant. "I mean you niggas come up in here in your flashy Benz, Armani suits, and Rolex watches and try to tell us about the hood. Then try to tell us everything will pull through for me. Like how do you know?" The rest of the young men stared at the mans face to see if he was going to snap but instead the man grinned and said,"First of all I know if you try hard enough you could be the one in the Benz and wearing Armani suits with Rolex watches. Second of all I because I made it." The boy sat quietly for a minute and finally told the man,"Yeah, that's easy for you to say huh? Just cause you made it you think every other nigga can make it too? My brother was the top of all his classes and in highschool he got all A's. So for college he decides to go to Yale, but the white man turned him down for a white nigger with all C's. A month later my brother was kilt, So tell me or enlighten me of how you can inspire me. Do you think you can because you got a full family, nice car, money, and fancy clothes? Well nigga you can't, most of us kids in here know we either gone die or go to jail. So why we need a nigga like you coming up in here flashing off you success?" The group sat quietly and stared at the man waiting for him to just pop off, instead the man just looked sincere and said,"Well because Boy! A nigger like ain't up here just to flash my success. I am here to speak hope to the youngmen in the hood. I know and remember the hard and cold nights in the hood!" The man spat the last sentence out. The group eyes went over to the boy, speechless as him and the man had a street intelligence face off. The boy twisted his face and spat back at the man, "Yea right, If you remember the hood you'll have much more to reminisce about. Like What about the sounds of a nigga getting shot? What about the sounds of mama crying at night? Do you remember the nights you needed a father for advice? Or when you went to school wearing the same shirt everyday cause mama couldn't afford a new one? How aboutthem lil' niggas that pick on you cause you had to wear big bro's hand me downs? Do you remember that?Right chu' can't cause your success done made you forget. You can only remember abliss or perhaps a glimspe of the hood." Every boy in the group had a tear formed in their eye just thinking about what they go through but none of them shedded them. The manlooked at the boy with a look of understanding& hurt in his eyes. He told the young man "See young man, that's where you go wrong, I remember all of that. Those are the memories that make me strive harder to get what I have. See you still a boy stuck in the struggle and its unknown to you how to get out correctly. See, your brother could've made it, its just that hegave up after Yale. He could've tried Harvard or Spellman and I'm sure they would've loved him. You have toknow that material thing can't get you nowhere", One of the boys yelled out "It gets you girls!", The man continued," Yea but what about me? Does it look likeI care about what you have on? No, I don't because I see right through that. You're an intelligent young man that can make it like I did. Every black guy I met I once called nigger or nigga and also oncewore hand me downs, but see that doesn't matter. All that matters is that I made it, we made it, and you all can be the ones who madeit." The boy had teary eyes, heknew a man shouldn't cry but that he learned different.He learned it was okay as did theother young men too.

The Boy grew up and now he's the CEO of a local buisness and has a loving family, nice car, and has a collection of Armani suits. He goes around telling his life story and this one is his favorite one to tell because the impact it had on his life. He hopes this story gives a youngman the same impact.


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