So when I got to high school, I just did it. I joined ROTC. Really it’s called JROTC, but nobody says the J. It stands for the Junior Reserve Officer Training Corps. I joined to get my dad off my back. To make him happy. Whatever.
"it was actually just like any other class, except it was Chief Killabrew—funniestlast name ever—teaching us all about life skills and being a good person and stuff like that."
“Listen to me. There’s no better opportunity for a black boy in this country than to join the army.”
Im Rashad Butler. Im a high schooler who gets acceptable grades, and im in jROTC
Gleiten: 2
I stepped out as regular Rashad Butler: T-shirt, sneakers that I had to perform a quick spit-clean on, and jeans that I pulledup, then sagged down just low enough to complete the look. My brother hadgiven me this sweet leather jacket that he had outgrown, so I threw that on,and bam!
“Fuckin’ thugs can’t just do what you’re told. Need to learn how to respect authority. And I’m gonna teach you”
“Were your pants sagging?” Dad interrogated, now back over by the door.“Were my pants sagging?” I repeated, shocked by the question. “What doesthat have to do with anything?”“Oh, it matters. If it walks like a duck, and it talks like a duck . . .”
Im Rashad Butler and I like going to parties after school with friends, and dressing thuggish
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