I went to see my school play a local rival in football last night at Miami-Dade community college. The game started at 7:30, but my friend and I did not arrive until about 7:50. People were everywhere. It was madness. 10,000 people for a high school football game! Each cheering section had a side of the field. There was no room to sit on our side of the field. I saw some of my students, but the majority of the crowd was family and community members. It was a sea of blue and gold. They were selling conche, big greasy hamburgers, and some sort of mango fruit blend. The anouncer was a character. I can't do justice to him on this blog, but if you call me I'll give an impression.

The quality of play was unbelievable. Both quarterbacks had incredibly strong arms and their accuracy was pretty awesome too. And the hits! Oh my god! And of course, everyone was fast. The energy in the air was palpable. The half time show was college-level. They had a marching band, flaggettes, and majorettes. The marching band played a few old favorites (i.e., Marvin Gaye) and then got into renditions of Snoop Dogg and Beyonce jams. If the band members weren't playing, they were aiming taunting dances at the other stands.

It was interesting being one of the only white people. Everyone knew I was a teacher, because why else would a white guy show up to an innercity high school football game? Everyone I met was very warm and nice, but it's impossible not to think about white privilege when you are in a situation like that. I mean, I felt comfortable going to the game. But would a black person feel comfortable if they were the only one with dark skin in a sea of 10,000 tennis fans? I feel comfortable going back and forth between their turf and mine, but I'm not sure if they feel the same. The truth may be that because of my white skin, it is ALL my turf. It's not about racism. It's about privilege.

So, back to the game. We were not doing as well as we should have been. We were supposed to be trouncing them, but in the fourth quarter, the game was tied at 27. They had the ball with about 2 minuts left. The quarterback dropped back and sailed the ball 40 yards down the sideline. Just as the ball was coming into the hands of a receiver, a gold jersey #27 swooshed in and made an interception. The receiver was immediately blocked out of bounds, and the rest of the secondary formed a wall around #27. The player paused for his blockers and took off down the sideline. The crowd roared. He made it all the way to the 7 yard line before being tackled. The Bull cheer started up: "Whoooo. Whoooo. Whoooo."

#27 sits in the back row of my seventh period. His name is "Xeryon." He gets his work in. So, on second down, a pass is made for a touchdown. And who caught the pass? Another one of my students. "Tyrone" is one of my best students and one of the nicest people I have ever met. A shriek came from behind me, "That's my boy! That's my boy!" Tyrone's mother was down to see him from North Carolina to see him play and I was glad to get the oppourtunity to meet her. We left at that point, but I guess the Bulls got another interception and touchdown in the closing seconds. My school 40, Other school 27.

I found out this morning that a "17 year old male" was shot after the game in the parking lot. I am trying to relate to the community, but I cannot relate to that. I am so upset. All I can seem to think of is a question: Why?