Life Knocks (White While Black) by William Washington

Life Knocks (White While Black)

William Washington

Until the lion learns to write their own story, tales of the hunt will always glorify the hunter - African Proverb The ConTextos Authors Circle was developed in collaboration with young people at-risk of, victims of, or perpetrators of violence in El Salvador. In 2017 this innovative program expanded into Chicago to create tangible, high quality opportunities that nourish the minds,,expand the voices and share the personal truths of individuals who have long been underserved and underestimated. Through the process of drafting, revising and publishing memoirs, participants develop self-reflection, critical thinking, camaraderie and positive selfprojection to author new life narratives.

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Life Knocks (White While Black) William Washington

Mama always said to act proper when you're around white people. White people tend to think you are serious. That you have manners and you can blend in and get better jobs. But why is it that when reality sits in your face, we got nice shoes but bumpy clothes, we got nice clothes but bummed shoes, got kool-aid with no sugar, got lights but no gas, got a home but no furniture, got water to wash up but no soap. Got toothpaste no toothbrush, got pancakes no syrup, got hotdogs no buns.

As a kid watching grown people lifestyles, you learn making a mistake comes from never being in that position, cuz if you were in that position you'll never do that again. It's scary how we can be in the worst position and still make the best out of it.

Perception

I learned that I had a learning disability, words scrabble in my head. Even when I got to the sixth grade, I still couldn't write or read a book. My mother was like Ray Charles’ mother, she wasn't going to let anyone tell her that her son was disabled, and she didn't want a check from the government either. She was going to beat me, tell me I was normal, and learn my abc’s lol or place me around people that were smarter than me, and who might be willing to help. Every teacher I had on the first day of school I would tell them that I would be their best student if they never choose me to read out loud or I could be their worst student if they ever called my name to read out loud. My method was to stay out of the teacher's way, and I would make it another day.

I was good at sports. I was great at basketball, but I was even better in baseball. It was something about the ball and my timing. I never missed, just watching the ball come and everything slows down. No matter how fast the pitcher throws the ball I always hit it. When I would forget about the contract me and my teachers had and I wanted to be the class clown, it never failed. They always called my name to read out loud and if I passed on reading I would get an F for the day for participation, so that's when my fighting skills kicked in.

If you laughed at me trying to read because I couldn't make it through one sentence, you had to lace your shoes up and people don't like bullies but I was just protecting my pride. So I was in eighth grade going into high school without reading a full book or novel. I was scared. All the smarter kids my mother put me around helped my grades. So in the summer I was on basketball teams in the Nike league. I used to play with this kid named Marcus Jordan.

When it came time to ball he always looked like Grant Hill with the glasses, plus he was bigger than everybody. I never knew that my mom knew his mom and that's why I was getting a chance at a better life and doing stuff that we couldn't afford. One day the coach said we got a few special guys that organize the teams and the city we travel to. It was Michael Jordan and a man that ran the organization. Everyone was happy and screaming but Marcus. I said,” man, you don't like MJ?” He put his head down and said, “That's my Dad.”

I said, “No way, so my friend's dad is MJ?” He looked up with an angry look on his face like he wished his dad never came, and told me “I'm not his friend, we just play basketball together.” I say my mother knows your mother. He says, “only because you are good at basketball.” Then life knocks. I thought if I never touched a basketball I would have never met Marcus Jordan or had the chance to see Michael Jordan shoot a free throw. As we lined up for lay-up lines, the most important thing MJ said that stuck with me was that the only bad shot is the one you don't take. And that stayed with me even outside of basketball. So summer was almost over and highschool was about to start.

Going to highschool was like going to college.

We moved so much I aint know where I would land. Why did I spend two summers in basketball camp with people I would never get to play with? My mother always said you can take what you learned anywhere, but that didn't make it any better. When it came time to enroll in school, I thought I was going back to the suburbs but my mother said god gave her an apartment in the city so I could go to school with some of the people I went to basketball camp with. The first week at Whitney Young I started running into the people I went to summer league with. It was crazy because our starting four went to this school and three other players that were at camp too. Everyone else went to the school across town. It was crazy because they all went to jr highschool with each other.

Then I ran into Marcus in the hallway. He smiled and rubbed his hand through my head and said, “I can’t get rid of you.” Baseball started and I was on the team.

I didn't like the sport because it was too slow. I played center field and was always fifth in the batting order.

The coach said I was fifth just in case someone got on base. Coach always said, “bend your knees and rock into it. Just don’t let the bat go just like we do in practice.” We had a good team and a great record and beat everyone in the conference, except the last team. Referees were cheating and everyone was white on the other team.

After the season basketball was starting, but the coach invited me to practice with sophomores who were heading to state and gave me a paper to give to my mother about summer camp for baseball. That's when life knocked, cuz I couldn't read and I was confused trying to make my own decisions. I told the coach I really don't like baseball. He said I know a lot of people that are good at sports they don't like. And a lot of them went pro. Then he said chances like this don't come often. I blew it off, not going to 10th grade baseball practice. I went to tryouts in the baseball shoes with the plastic spikes on the bottom because my summer basketball shoes had holes in them and my mother didn't have any money to waste on me. After trying out and sliding everywhere the list went up. I couldn't wait to get out of class to see the list. It had 30 names and mine was last on the

list. I was happy that the a-team and b-team is what they called it. After they split them up, the a-team was the best and played last all the time. The coach was the man from summer league so I knew him.

I told him my mother didn't have money to buy me shoes, and that I was playing basketball in baseball shoes. Then I showed him the plastic spikes in the bottom, he said he would see what he could do but never said anything about it. Right before our first game the baseball coach Mr. Morgan said I saw you playing in your baseball shoes, so I brought you some basketball shoes. Plus he was my math teacher. I was so happy. Then he said if your basketball coach won't put you in position to do your best, baseball camp only costs 350 bucks and I'll give you half. I felt like I should give him a chance and see what he can turn me into. But my future was basketball and I was still wearing my baseball shoes to practice.

Marcus said the coach talked to his father because some of the kids couldn't afford shoes, and we might get team shoes because he aint like the idea of us wearing the same shoes as everyone else because every practice he had different Jordans on. He used to say, “yo gear makes you better.”

On game day I wore the shoes Mr Morgan gave me. They were Nike, nothing too fancy and I wasn't sliding all over the court. My game was on. The coach was like “lefty you stepping it up out there, and I love the way you rebound.” A week went by and the coach said that it's the deadline for the money for the team shoes. The Jordans were 200 bucks but we only had to pay 100. I say, “Coach, I'm poor. He looked at me like how can you go to this school and really be poor, so he gave the people who couldn't pay a waiver to have our mothers sign. It was only me and a kid named Charles Smith. We got it back and one week later the shoes came in, but there was a second pair of shoes.

It was the newest Jordans but in black instead of white. Me and Charles were the only kids that got 2 pairs in the second box. I got a MJ card with a signature on the back. Marcus said, “That's my dad for you.” I was so happy, so I wore Mr. Morgan’s shoes to practice and the team shoes to the game. I never wore the black 1s. I started after I got my basketball shoes. My games were tight. I only took good shots that I know I can make. I averaged 15 points 8 rebounds 4 steals a game. By the middle of the season we had a good record and we were playing a team that hadn't lost yet and Marcus said his father was gonna be at the game. It was a home game. I was being talked about and they had 4 kids that went to summer camp on the team and 3 of them starting. I told Charles to bring yo black jordans we gon try something different. We were getting ready for the game and the coach saw my shoes and said, “I hope you don't think you're playing in those shoes. Play in the team shoes, the white ones.” I thought, ``These are my team shoes too. I figured that since this was a big game I might as well try them.

Everyone started laughing. The coach said, “try them on the bench.” My face dropped and I started to cry. Then Charles punched me in the arm and said, “Dumbass, now we don't even get to start. We're going to lose for sho.”

I still came out for a lay-up line, me and Charles were the only ones with different color shoes on. They felt lighter and had more grip. I could jump higher and my shot was on. Charles being 6’1 and skin was dunking to show the coach what he would be missing out on from him not being in the game. Charles told the coach, “I think everyone should get a pair of these shoes to try. They feel lighter and I jump higher.” The coach said, “you can jump from chair to chair.” Charles just laughed. I wanted to quit. Everyone started yelling when MJ walked in the gym in a Jordan jumpsuit and the same shoes me and Charles had on.

Marcus said I got to win because my father’s here and pushed up his glasses. So the coach put me and Charles at the end of the bench. MJ sat behind us, Charles pointed to his shoes and the coach saw MJ wearing the same shoes we had on and he shook his head. At the end of the first quarter we were down 10 points. Marcus Jordan had most of the points. A kid that started with the name Eddie who played center was 6’3, the same height as Marcus. The coach knew his scorers were at the end of the bench. We both were ready to get in the game at any time, but the coach was willing to take a loss to teach us a lesson.

The 2nd quarter started and they went up 15 points. The kids that went to summer camp were killing us. Then they started talking trash and the crowd was going crazy from the fast breaks and dunks. They started taunting our coach and MJ was talking to his son, showing him how to get open and get an easy shot. It wasn't working. There were 4 minutes left in the 2nd quarter. Coach said, “They are not leaving here without a loss” and motioned for me and Charles to go into the game. We stood up and ran to the scorer’s table, shaking hands and smiling and pumping the tongue of the shoes, like they could bring us back. Marcus usually brought the ball up court but I did to let him get some rest. Charles set a pick and cut to the basket. I threw it up there and got a dunk and a foul. Now the Whitney Young crowd went crazy. We were still down 14 points. We got a rebound. I pushed the ball up the court and pulled up at the 3 point line and we got another rebound.

Charles threw the ball from one side of the court to Eddie who layed the ball up.

In less than 7 minutes we were down 9 points from 17 points. With 1 minute left in the second quarter they bring the ball up and we trap them at half court without

coach approval. They faked and threw the ball over the top. I jumped and stole the ball, and threw it down court. It was a 2 on 1. Charles and Marcus. Marcus passes it to Charles and he goes up and gets a dunk and a foul. He missed the free throw, but Eddie got the rebound, passed the ball out and I hit a 3 pointer. Now we're down 5 points and they bring the ball back down. Charles missed the last shot of the quarter. Then it’s halftime and MJ’s clapping his hands and Marcus was like “I have to win because my father’s here.” Charles told the coach, “it's the shoes, man.” Coach actually had a good time, knowing we know each other’s game.

Coach says they are going to bring the a-game out there. Their starters will be back in. Coach told us to keep our eyes open for the backdoor pass and the full court press, and “Lefty, watch out for the box and 1. 1-4, if they go back to box and 1, the 3 point shots are all yours.” The box and 1 play was a play for Marcus because he liked to drive in and bully anyone in the paint. So the 3rd quarter started. They went from full court trap to the box and 1. Every time we got down court the play we had was designed for man to man and zone. We were not a 3

point team. We won games off points in the paint and mid range shots. So we pass the ball around until we get in the paint. They trap the man with the ball, he passed it out to someone who then shot a 3 pointer but they was missing, and we grabbed a rebound for a second chance to score. Coach calls timeout. We down 11 points. Coach say, "do whatever yall did in the 2nd quarter and pass Washington the ball. He has not missed a shot." So as the play was being played I set up to read the shot; they passed inside to trap. Eddie passed out.

Marcus wide open they rush him he pass it to me and I hit the 3 pointer then same play next time down pass me ball I pump faked and stepped in to a mid range shot battled the quarter, we down 5 points coach say if you come back from 17 points in 4 minutes and lose by 5 we running the entire practice. 4th quarter came and they didn't have they starters in the game, we get the ball down court, pass it around, Marcus shot a 3 and air balled. Charles got the rebound and put up, scoring. We full court trap, steal the ball, then they pass me the ball in the corner.

I hit the 3 pointer. I looked at the scoreboard, and I had 14 points. It was a tie game. They called timeout and put their starters in.

They went down, missed a shot. I brought the ball up, waited for a pick, then drove in, pulled up, hit a jump shot, the crowd went crazy. Coach says, "patience then we get a steal." I'm already by the rim. Charles threw the ball down. I laid it up, now I got 18 points, then I got open from 3 again and hit 21 points. They went down scored. I got open in the corner and hit another 3 pointer, 24 points. They called a timeout.

We were up 7 points with 4 minutes left and the coach took Eddie and Marcus out of the game, leaving me Charles and Zac in. Zac was just the defense man he guarded. I brought the ball up, Charles set a pick and rolled. I drove, stopped and pulled up and he hit my elbow and I hit the shot for a 3 point play. 27 points, as I made the free throw and now we are up 10 points. Coach put the rest of the starters in and took me and Charles out. We sat on the bench pumping our shoes, like the shoes won us the game. At the end of the day the coach left me out of the game for the last 2 minutes. I guess so I didn't mess up my shooting percentage.

MJ was waiting in the lobby, said great game and said if I could do this every night you’ll be going somewhere. Made me feel good. Charles told him the

coach wasn't going to let us play because we didn't wear the team shoes. He smiled and said the black 1s is the latest and lighter. I gave them to you so you can feel the difference in the shoes. It was a gift, and he told us if we need anything tell Marcus and he will get the message to me.

Back home my mother was always at work and she always said sports don't pay the bills. “You are almost at the age that you have to get a job and help me if you want to stay at your school.” She never really cared about if I was good at sports or not. By the end of the season we made regionals and lost in the final round due to some of the players’ grades. Marcus had shin splints from too much practice, so at the end of the season coach Morgan said, “Are you ready for summer camp?” School was almost over. I said my mother needs help with bills so I may have to get a job this summer.

He said, “What do you think happens after high school? You work for the rest of your life. Sport, if you get into a good school and coaches that can position you in

the right direction, get free rides to any college that accepts them, you can get a chance for the big leagues.” I never knew that. I guess because I was born and raised to know nothing but after school just pick a job. My coach gave me a letter to give to my mother, but I didn't read it. I hated reading, but my mother rushed in the room and backhanded me, busting my lip saying, “Why are you telling your teacher that we need help with bills and I can't afford to pay for summer camp fees?” I went to school with a fat lip and told Morgan whatever he put in that letter got me beat up man.

He said, “I see she's a tough cookie.” I say, “What do you say in the letter?”

“There are over 2500 students in the building and your son is one of the best baseball players and I'll pay for anything to help William stay stable.” I said, “I got whoopings for that? Sounds like a Win, Win.” So at the end of the school year, my mother lost her job. She started networking again. A town in Kankakee was brought up. Charles’ mother was moving out there and my mother thought it would be an ok start and cheaper. So one day I was at baseball practice and my mother said we were moving to Chicago Heights. There's no hope out there.

Mr. Morgan told my mom he would help her stay and she blew him off. He said that I can afford it if I can stay with him for the next 3 years in high school. He would make sure I got into college and a good one. He asked her if she had ever seen me play. She said no, then told me to come on. He said, “the kid has a heart and around the right people he’ll be able to take care of you without you worrying about it. Here's my number.” She said, “he has a little sister that he has to be home to watch, so I may never call you.” Then as we packed up, Marcus' mother asked if I could stay with them. My mother turned it down. I shook hands and cried all the way to exit 318 off 57 kankakee.

Sweet Kankakee. First day of school the only person I knew was Charles and he was 6’3 and had grown a little more over the summer. I was still 5’8, just like my 7th grade year when I was bigger than the other kids. Their sports teams sucked.

The baseball team was all white, and the basketball team was all short kids and not so good. They didn't have height or drive. I asked my mother if I could go back because ain't no hope here. She hit me in the mouth and said, “work with what you got. You can't leave your sister behind, only two of yall.” I used my baseball shoes from last year to make it through. The coach was a regular coach:

good job, see you later, type of man. No extra, no hope, just another season to him.

Basketball came up and me and Charles tried out and made the team. We wore all black Jordans from last year. We were the starters. I was shooting guard and he was the center, but at Whitney Young he was the small forward and I was at the point when Marcus was tired. So we both were out of position. But we played smarter than the other kids, no mistakes were made. We were the top 2 scores but we couldn't win and the other team was bigger than us, plus we were playing schools in Chicago Heights like Rich East and Bloom, who were built like the kids at Whitney Young: tall and knew how to play ball. So I guess my mother was in Park Forest and decided to come see me play at Rich South high school.

I saw my mother and then my father and said, “we have to win. My mother is here.” Charles said, “just like when Marcus' dad came to the games.” Then I thought his dad might not come to see him play so he had to surprise him. We stopped running plays and started playing the way we used to at Whitney Young.

Charles put the next big guy at center which gave him a smaller defender to drive to the basket and dunk. I brought the ball up court even when the coach told me to give the ball to the point guard. Me and Charles were on a mission. I made four 3 pointers and 3 mid range shots off the picks that Charles set for me. At the end of the 3rd quarter they were still up 5 points and me and Charles were the only ones with 20 points and 26 points. The coach said, “Did yall play together somewhere else because it's like yall know each other's game” and we started pumping the tongues on our shoes. 4th quarter started and Charles drove in for a layup and got a foul, hitting the freethrow he got 29 points.

I stole the ball, layed it up and the score was tied. Now everytime they bring the ball up court we trap them, but they are taller than us, so they put the ball over their heads until someone gets open. We were undersized. Charles was getting tired, so I knew I had to take over. I brought the ball up court, pulled a missed 3 pointer, got my own rebound shot, another 3 and it hit. I got a rebound off the other team’s miss and ran the ball back down court, laid it up and got a foul. We were up 6 points and they fouled the last few seconds hoping we would miss the

free throws but I remembered MJ saying that free throws are like a lay-up, master that and your game will elevate. So I never miss free throws.

At the end of the game my mother’s face lit up like “I aint know you was that good and Charles and you can dunk. You go boys.” My father said, “boy, I might have to come see you play basketball more often.” Then I said in the car “My coaches don't lie when they say they can make me into something. Ma, I don't think I will get the same scouts as I would if I went to school in the city. Plus the people at Kankakee high school are short. They might have bad water. Plus they don't talk about the game over the intercom after the school pledge.” So the next day at school they finally said my name and Charles’ name, and that we brought a win to Kankakee. It was a start. I didn't want to start over and I missed my old friends and coaches.

Coach Morgan found my myspace and asked how I was doing at my new school.

I told him I scored 33 points in a game and Charles scored 32 in the same game.

He asked what our record was and I told him it was 3-8 and the guys out here

were small and not too good. He asked me about baseball also. I told him I was playing 2nd base and I'm batting 2nd. It's all bad. These white kids are not tough.

He asked me if I was hitting the same. I hit better. The pitchers throw slower, and even when I make it on base, no one behind me can't get past 2nd base to tell 6,7,8 batters to step it up. I think he got the batting order wrong. I need to be behind people that can get on base. He said, “I see someone’s listening to how things go as a coach.”

So I guess the coaches talked about it and had me, Joe, Lightfoot and Charles practice with the varsity team. Everything moved faster and the players on the other team were bigger. The tallest player was 6’4 and the other players were 6' 9 and 7 feet. The coach said welcome to the big leagues. I told my mother I was on varsity. She said, “I told you that you could take you wherever you go.” Our record was better now at 9-3. Charles and Lightfoot were the same height as the other kids so they got all the playing time and I was just a sitting duck for the first 3 games. Then one game, Charles said, “you are ready to pump your shoes up?” I smiled and said, “let's get this money.” Charles set the pick and rolled. The guy t

hat was in front of me was too tall to pull up on and he could jump too high for me to throw a lob pass. So I stepped back and sized him up. I crossed him and drove to the basket. Then when I got a little space, I pulled up and knocked down the jumper and pumped my shoes again. Lightfoot never missed an open shot, he was better than Marcus on the outside game.

Everyone was playing for a position for next year. Coach Ranched was talking about how we were going to make it out of regionals this year. The second to last game came in the conference final. It was like everything we worked for just went out the window. We lost to a team we blew out in the regular season.

Then Coach said he was coaching at Bradley High School next year. I know it was because we lost when we should have won.

First time ever my heart fell out of my chest. My friends asked if I would play next year, my junior year. I say I’m not playing for a new coach. I’ll get a job.

Charles stopped talking to me, all my college letters stopped coming in the mail.

My friends went from sports kids to kids who had jobs, cars and real responsibilities. I never even touched a ball in PE Class.

Moral of this story: no matter how tough it gets, never jump ship cuz you never know who’s around you that you embrace and feed off your presence.

William Washington I Am From I am from Chicago Heights.

Where the sky is limited.

I am from where you can't be scared of them Heights.

I am from summer time, When grandma's greens are the best.

I’m from Catherine and hugs with kisses.

From never cry go harder, And from take yo heart out yo chest, Put it in yo pocket before you go on a date.

I’m from take them chains off before you go outside.

And from you work hard, you play harder.

I’m from God, who keeps me safe in the jungle.

I’m from St. James Hospital.

From Washington Park family reunions and BBQ’s.

From Doodie Lo from Kankakee, chilling in studios, To hanging with Durkio.

I am from being blessed, cuz without the struggle Wouldn’t know how to make it.

Until the lion learns to write their own story, tales of the hunt will always glorify the hunter - African Proverb Copyright

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