MLK Day

Lauren had to write an essay from the perspective of one of the people in the above picture. (Sorry, I don't know how to make it bigger!) She wrote it from the white man standing behind the table's perspective. I thought she did a very good job, especially in terms of imagery.
****************************************

I tread slowly, confidently down the empty sidewalks of Cairo, Illinois. My hands in my pockets and the August sunshine on my back, I whistle softly to myself. Today is my first day of work at the city pool, my sixteenth birthday being just last week. As I round the last corner, I find myself in front of the stark white building, so bright I raise my hand to shield my eyes. I take a deep breath, tuck in my shirt and shove my blond hair back into my cap. The heavy door creaks as I push it open. “Good morning,” a quiet voice says from behind the counter. “You must be Brad.” As my eyes slowly adjust to the dark room a pale woman comes into focus. Her slender hand is outstretched and I step forward to shake it. Her lips part into a polite smile and she hands me a wooden sign. “Would you finish painting this?” she asks. It just needs the glaze and it will be finished. I take the sign, grab the tin can of paint on the countertop and head back outside. I examine the board carefully. Printed in large white letters are the words “Private Pool—Members Only.”

Fifteen minutes later I am standing with three other boys behind the damp sign, propped on a dusty table in the front doorway. It is ten minutes before we open and already a line has formed, with five Negroes in the front. A young man, no more than twenty, steps forward. “I’d like to become a member” he says. His voice is calm but steady and his dark hands are clasped behind his back. “We don’t allow Negroes here” the manager growls from behind me, “Go home.” The black man steps closer, his face so close I can see the beads of sweat on his forehead. “I said I would like to become a member,” he repeats. A white fist strikes from behind me and the black man is on the ground, blood streaming from his swollen nose. Suddenly my stomach tightens and my head starts to spin. The two men blur out of focus into one being. I hear a clash and realize the sign has dropped to the ground. I turn and run out the door and past the long line, leaving the towering white building far behind me.