The Anonymous
Bag On My Head
Too many blacks. Too damn many blacks! Everywhere. In almost all the seats. Standing in the aisles. Peering in through the door held ajar by the man with the dreads. Some with two and three kids - who behave remarkably well - in tow. Too damn many - that was the thought running through my head as I looked around. An audience of 90% blacks with a few whites interspersed. I am really uncomfortable now. This is not right I thought, there are too may of 'them' and not enough of 'us,' us being white folks like me. As we form a line to move on, I count: 1,2,3,4,5...10, 11...14, 15, 16. Sixteen blacks stand in the line in front of me between me and an Indian woman with a dot. Holy crap. The demographics of this group look nothing like the population at large. After all this is traffic court. Nine hundred and forty two defendants on the docket the clerk had said. "Mr. Shabazz, you are guilty of DWB. The sentence is $103 fine and ten days suspended sentence pending payment of the fine. Pay the Clerk." The Judge cranks it out like a machine... an ATM machine for the county. One down, 941 left to go.