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Modern Satire
I remember growing back up down South. I remember the trees. I remember the wildlife. I remember the food. I remember home. Momma would have me watering the garden. And the bees, flies and insects would attack me. I would try to protect myself with a hood and water quickly. And Momma would say they better not become dry. I'm Matt and I have a little sister Hazey. Hazey was a good looking young girl that liked to discover the world. She was smart and cunning. I could not get anything passed her. She was always listening and thinking. Sometimes I think she wanted to be me. But I am the older one, I am the older brother. And Momma told me to look out for her. I love Hazey but she someitmes become too much to handle. And now its our first day going to school together. Dad was worried and so was Momma because the schools were just integrated. Momma feared somebody might attack Hazey and I. Dad told us to be brave and to be like Dr. King. He said Dr. King wants us to have a good education. And Dr. King loves the children so much that he wants them to play together and be friends with one another. And I said Daddy Dr. King is like Jesus, he's my hero. And Momma and Dad sent us off holding hands to the bus stop. At the bus stop there was no one there but us. And we were afraid because we waited on the curb. Then we saw the neighbor, Mrs. Evers was walking with her two daughters. Mrs. Evers introduced us to the two daughters, Betsie and Belinda. And I introduced Hazey and me. And when Mrs. Evers left she waved at us and she said that she would watch for us from a distance. Betsie said Hay Hay and Matt Matt. And Belinda laughed and they both laughed. And I told them to knock it off because we weren't making fun of them. I was just about to get back at them when Hazey made a cute sound. She was playing with the flowers by the tree and smelling time. She said Matt look I love flowers and nature. And I went over and play with the flowers, I told her their names and what they smell like. I told her that she would learn all about their beauty and attributes in school. Hazey was excited and then I saw the bus, so I hurried up Hazey to come. And she came just in time as Betsie and Belinda got on the bus I first let Hazey go because she was young and she was a future lady. And the bus driver looked mean but she smiled at the cuteness of Hazey and she was nice to Hazey but gave me the eye. I admitted school was tough. I saw right by my sister. And I was her defender. Mom and Dad put me in charge and Hazey was a big responsibility. Betsie and Belinda sat in front as I locked in Hazey's seatbelt. Betsie said that I was babying her and that I should stop. So did Belinda say the same thing and they were making fun of me saying that I think that I am the father. Then they begin to call me Father Matt. I just looked out the window and play with my sister. I love watching her smile and gaze at the outdoor as she was close to the window. Then we got off the bus last, and there were people who were fighting outside. And there were people who were yelling. Hazey and I had to be escorted by the security guard. I hugged Hazey before I turn her over to her teacher. She was happy and scared about Mrs. Dorothy. And Mrs. Dorothy asked my teacher Mrs. Tyson if we can do a combined class. Mrs. Tyson hesitantly agreed. And when Mrs. Dorothy suggested her students go over to Mrs. Tyson class then Mrs. Tyson agreed. And Betsie and Belinda were in my class. And Mrs. Tyson asked me to read and I was nervous but she sat my sister in front of me and she was glaring at me and the book. The other students did not think I could read that well and my sister and I were the two of three Black students. I read aloud and clearly. And Hazey celebrated and I hugged her. Mrs.Tyson cried and Mrs. Dorothy cheered on and they hug all their students. And Mrs. Dorothy's cousin was the guest and she played the guitar, she first played 'This Land is Your Land' then 'Dr. Martin Luther King was a great man'. And Hazey and I never wanted to leave the classroom. And the school felt it was too dangerous for us to take the bus so our parents came. And when they heard everything they took us out to eat and we spent time together being a family. I guess Dr. King's dream is a good dream. And if we loved then we can open each other's hearts.
About the Creator
Distinguished Honorary Alumni Dr. Matthew Primous
Known as a Significant Voice in Modern Literature, a Poet of the Year, 2020 Black Author Matters Winner, 2025 Black Authors Matter Children Book Awards Nominee for his books, and International Impact Awards' Author of the Year Nominee
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More stories from Distinguished Honorary Alumni Dr. Matthew Primous and writers in Writers and other communities.
Mack Augustus
I was born a slave. The son of a slave. My mother was a slave and my father was the Master. Many times I questioned my life and its importance. I knew I was born for a reason but I could not figure out the reason. My mother worked all her life trying to be something. She worked hard in the fields and she did not fail to do her part. She taught me perseverance. She taught me love. She taught me respect. At times I was confused about who I was. I am the son of the master yet I am a slave. Each passing day, it begin to eat me up and tear me apart. Mother knew how to console me. She knew how to keep me in my place. She knew how to talk to me. She knew how to comfort me. My mother was all I knew. She was everything to me. She was the glue that kept me going each day. I don't know what I would do without her. I don't know if I could be stable without her. I wanted to learn. I wanted to read. I wanted to do what other young kids did. But mother told me that I have everything that I needed. She told me that things would come in time. That I Mack would be something someday that nobody could talk down and that nobody could oppressed. And I believed my mother. I believed her dearly. I did not see my father much. He was usually away and the slave-drivers were harsh upon us. And they would be vexing and provoking. I would pay no attention because I knew how to work. I knew when to work. I was smart. I was strong. I was able. And I did not need a slave-driver to curse at me and beat me to submission. I had friends and relatives on the plantation. And some of them stood and some of them left. I didn't know about freedom. I didn't understand why people wanted to free. I didn't know myself that well. All I knew was on this plantation. Then as I aged Momma was shocked at the news from the Master. She overheard him saying from the slaves in the Master's house that he was gonna sell a slave. And something left Momma that day, she was never the same. She was stricken and tired. She was not the same. I caught her just before she fell down walking toward the field. And Momma told me what freedom was. She told me what freedom was like. She told me to read the Bible. And she told me that a man must fight for freedom. That people are not meant to be slaves. That people are not meant to oppress. That people are human beings with minds, thoughts, and free will. And Momma died that day in my arms. I cried like a baby. I was angry. I was mad. I was fed up. I wanted to be the man that my mother raised. I wanted to be the man that my mother created. And the slave-driver pulled me away from Momma's dead body. And now I was alone in this world. Mack was the only name I knew because my master did not think fit for me to have any full name like a human being. The Master came to my cabin and he called me by name. And he had a slave-driver with a gun. And he proudly said Now that my mother died that I can move on. And that he had business with me. He wanted me to sell off to his daughter who was getting married. I didn't say anything but kept my head low and didn't look him into his eyes. And he asked me to speak, he said speak boy. And I said My mother loved you enough to give birth to your child. I am your son. Why do you treat me like a slave? Why do you called me out of my name? Why do you speak to me like I am nothing? My mother was all I had. She was everything. I don't want to go. And the Master said so you speak like a man. Then he turned and laughed with his slave-driver and said slaves are not human beings and they must be taught obedience. Strap him up. This boy needs a whipping. And the slave-driver took me and stretch my arms in the barn tied up and stretch my legs and tied them up. The slave-driver was just about to start whipping when the Master took over and said I got to teach the boy that he is no man and that he will obey me. As the Master starts beating, I cried and started getting angry. The Master beat harder and harder. And I yelled and torn the straps and the Master was shocked. I took the whip and shouted So you wanna beat me now that Momma's gone. I will show you and he put the Master into a deep sleep. And I looked for the slave-driver but he was in the Master's house. And I grab a horse because I worked with all of the horses and slowly but surely rode miles away quietly and cross rivers with what I had. I came to a ship and said that I was a freedman. And I moved with the ship as a worker up North. I was able to purchase a bible and taught myself to read. And I added my last name Augustus for my safety. For I was freed and happy. I became a man and Momma would be proud up in Heaven. For I escaped and was never ever gonna turn back. I would rather died than be a slave.
By Distinguished Honorary Alumni Dr. Matthew Primous2 years ago in Writers
Wild Card Weekend Recap: What Happens Now?
I think I figured out why I love Wild Card Weekend so much. It's because it's the first playoff anything of the calendar year. The NFL season starts in the fall, and once upon a time, the champion was crowned either on or slightly before New Year's. The evolution of the NFL schedule has resulted in the playoffs starting just into the New Year, and currently, the final week of the season falls on the first weekend of the New Year, with Wild Card Weekend coming a week after that. So yes, chronologically, the NFL's Wild Card Weekend serves as the first playoff anything of the calendar year.
By Clyde E. Dawkins6 days ago in Unbalanced
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