Elementary School – West Portal
Once I got used to everyone around me was mostly white, teachers, musician friends of my Dads, my friends, I settled into the fact that racial incidents of prejudice and bigotry would be almost a daily occurrence. We lived right across the street from the fire station in a nice rental home, off of Portola drive. Portola was a main thoroughfare that ran east to west connecting to upper Market street and then into market street, which lead straight into downtown. Nice tree lined street with houses bordering on the side.
What I really enjoyed about San Francisco was the diversity of some of the neighborhoods. Asian, Mexican, Puerto Ricans, Germans, Spanish, French, Italian, Moroccan, Arabic speaking people, Japanese and so many others. My Parents learned how to use a wok and stir fried vegetables with meat, and fish. Our dinners were really tasty. The wok cooking put an end to the mixed vegetables and other foods, boiled until all the flavor was gone.
Then there was West Portal delicatessen and Shaw’s Ice Cream, side by side in the middle of the block. Being a sixth grader, and Captain of the safety patrol at West Portal school lent itself to some autonomy that most students at the time. I left the classroom to prepare for the crosswalk duty, along with the autonomy of having a later lunch, after the lunch recess bell had rung. I could be late for class. However, the rule was no students (including safety patrol officers) could leave the school grounds for any reason during the school day.
West Portal shopping area had the most delicious foods. Everything! Pizza, deli sandwiches, Italian food, asian food, candy stores, ice cream, and more. The school cafeteria food – one word – Nasty! Everything was baked and boiled, overcooked with very little flavor.
So I took liberties with my autonomy and headed down to Shaw’s Ice Cream as soon as my shift was just about over. Most of the kids were in the school yard for lunch recess so I did not think I would be missed. Imagine that. A Black kid in a school of mostly white kids, not being seen amongst students who are playing at recess. What was I thinking. I would run down to Shaws, and get a ham on a hard roll mustard and pickle only.
After school I would get a hot fudge sundae. Didn’t have time to slam that sandwich down and a sundae, as I walked up the hill back to the school. West Portal school had three levels of playground, all built on a steep hill. One could pretend to be the working the crosswalk at the public library, (west portal shopping area) and then making their way back to school grounds via the lowest level playground area. Kick ball, dodge ball, tether ball were the games being played at recess.
So I pretended to work the lower crosswalk and then ran as fast I could to get my lunch from Shaws ice cream (deli sandwich) The German woman who worked there, knew me well. I went there everyday. She like me. A very nice woman who when I was in line and some older white people (male and female) cut in front of me when she asked who’s next, would said, NO – I believe He (me) is next! What would you like today Son? Those white people were so mad to see a Black boy being given service before them (even though I was next) that on occasion, a few turned away, cursed under their breath and left the store. I was enveloped with a feeling of self pride by the German store owners actions. She had a special empathy for me (plus I was regular customer) and the racism that occurred in front of her very eyes.
The big market and delicatessen (West Portal Deli) next door to Shaw’s was a completely different story. They made me wait and wait until all the white customers, even those behind me, were served. After the white customers were served, the Butcher would like over the counter and at me and me emphatic – YES?!
No comforting or inviting offer to assist me, but a plain – YES?!
After awhile, I began to by pass up that deli, unless one of my West Portal white friends was with me and wanted to go there for a sandwich or a large pickle. When my friends were with me, the Butcher served them with no problem. My friends having observed the racist Butcher’s dislike of me, would order for me. I would tell them ahead of time. We just wanted our food. We meant no harm to anyone.
In later years a few of the stores claimed that teens and other youths traveling the street car through the west portal tunnel would pull a massive smash – grab thefts in groups of four or more, which started a policy of West Portal merchants allowing one student at a time into their shops. The merchants claimed it was only Black youths stealing from and running down the street, while the merchant gave chase to the thieves. I did see some youths stealing from the stores, both White, Black, Chinese and others. However, the store owners singled out the African American kids. White privilege was in full effect. If you were a white kid, or a group of kids, entering the store, you were never asked to line up at the door for a single kid entry. Only students of color. Imagine being in line and seeing other white kids entering the store happy go lucky and care free, while you waited outside to be let in to purchase candy, chips, or a soda. I took note of that and decided, I would not give those stores my business. I have never been back to the those particular stores
Ms Barrett – Principal of West Portal Busted Me
One day after coming back with my sandwich from Shaw’s (it was illegal for students to be off campus at lunch time) Ms Barrett was waiting on me as I walked up the hill returning to school, having both a sandwich and box drink in my hand, and wearing my safety patrol shoulder belt, and Captains badge pinned to it. The look on her face cut right through me like a knife cuts through butter. Ms Barrett with her hand outstretched, said “Give it to me”!
I sheepishly dropped my head, and gave her the sandwich. Ms Barrett said, “Brian I am deeply disappointed in you. You are one of our star students. I trusted YOU! And with that, she reached out and asked me to remove my belt, badge and sent me to her office. My parents were called later that afternoon, and I was given two weeks of school community service. I had to clean the school yard (second level) with a broom and shovel. The whole yard, along with other students who were in trouble for various reasons. I was removed from my duties on the safety patrol for the rest of the school year.
To this day, I regret violating the trust of Ms Barrett who did so much to help me to adjust to my new life in San Francisco.
There were never anymore disciplinary actions taken by Ms Barrett against me for any sort of behavior issues after I performed the school community service punishment.
Fortunately – after the school year ended, the last day and graduation Ms Barrett said “Brian, I forgive you. I can see you learned a valuable .” Once again, Ms Barrett was right.