I Remember Lola

I was in elementary school (don't remember the grade, exactly, but I remember that I was still at Jefferson Elementary School...on the cusp of the 60's-70's)...when Lola was introduced to the class. A beautiful black girl with tight braids, big dark brown eyes, well-dressed, and...very, very shy. I remember the entire room going silent as she walked through the doors, and the teacher introduced her. After her introduction, she sat down in the masking-taped circle, crossed her legs and rested her chin on her clasped hands.

I thought she was one of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen. When recess started, I went over and introduced myself, and asked if she wanted to play. Her beautiful eyes lit up and we ran for the swings, and for 15 minutes, we competed on how high we could swing. I remember laughing, "I'm higher!" and she'd giggle and say, "No, I'M higher!" And then the bell rang.

Lola became a great friend and classmate. When we needed partners for a project, we'd look at each other from across the "circle" and immediately walk toward each other, and hand in hand, we'd go to our assigned station. We ate lunch together. We'd play princesses; she'd tell me how pretty I was; I'd tell her how pretty she was. We took branches from the trees, and made wands that had "power" to change anything into anything we wanted. I have no recollection about the details of our conversations, but I just know that she made me feel like I was a true friend. 

And then one day, Lola was gone. It wasn't long, either; it was a matter of just a few months. I never met her parents. I don't know what happened, but as a small child, suddenly losing a best friend made me incredibly sad. I felt alone.

Then, looking back, I remember how it "really was". When we'd go to our stations for projects, I heard remarks from other students about Lola: "You stink/smell"..."You look like a monkey"..."Your hair is ugly"..."Don't touch me,  you have cooties"...I ignored those remarks, and responded with my usual, "Well, you're stupid." naively dismissing their clear racial prejudice. Heck, I was just a child. The "You're stupid" remark cured everything.

I was quite lost after Lola disappeared. I asked my Mom where she went, and she didn't know. I asked my teacher, and she didn't say. I sat in the masking tape circle, and tried to rebuild my social ring. It was a difficult thing to do.

I was adopted as an infant into a white family, into a white community in Riverton, Wyoming. My parents made sure that I appreciated my Native American roots, and would often take me to the Wind River Indian Reservation to visit my Indian family. I've never forgotten where I "came from", but I eventually came to realize that I was from a varied background mixed with Native, Hispanic and Welsh roots, and with that, I felt the pull towards the tribe, yet a greater pull towards social acceptance. I did have to endure the whole "Pocahontas", "Sacajawea" teasing from time to time, and there was never any question who was the "Indian" when the neighborhood kids played "Cowboys and Indians". I got used to all the type casting long ago, but I could handle it.

Lola's family? I wonder if something happened where it couldn't be handled anymore.

Still today, I don't understand racial division, or that race is still even an issue. Or any type of division, for that matter, be it color, gender, cultural, religious. I strongly believe in being the best, respectable human being you can be, and if you break the law, you are responsible for doing so. You made the choice to break it; you cannot choose the consequences of breaking it by crying "Discrimination!" At the same time, there is so much we still do not see, except for what the media wants us to see (to boost advertising).

I live in a pretty rough neighborhood here in Sacramento. This last weekend, I stood in line at the local Walmart behind a beautiful black woman - well-dressed, a cascade of braids down her back, with a crate full of school supplies. I asked her about her purchases. She smiled this gorgeous smile and said she was a teacher at an inner city school, and was buying school supplies. I asked what the Life Savers and gummy bears were for, and she described a project she was doing to present a concept in her students' Science class. I said, "...and the school doesn't help pay for your supplies, right?" She said she didn't mind; it's not about the politics, it's about "teaching our children however we can". Wow. This teacher is on the front lines in a neighborhood where it would be so easy for kids to just be a runner and sell/push drugs. Better the gummy bears and Life Savers...

I hope that teachers and parents everywhere can be aware of the prejudices in their own communities. It takes a bit of human evolvement towards intelligence to realize that it starts with our own children - who simply take another human being by the hand and "swing higher".

Carol Harper, Editor

Amador Community News