A Short Gangsta

Tie o’ the Day is spot-on for this post. I’m going to tell you about, Kavon, a drug dealer gangsta who occasionally showed up as a student in my class when I taught middle school in Baltimore. I don’t mean he sold a little pot and a few pills to the other middle schoolers. I mean, he was an upper-tier dealer.

Kavon was 16, and he was still in the 8th Grade. He dressed the same way every day: Tommy Hilfiger khakis; Timberland boots; and a NEW, pressed, white t-shirt. He wore gold bling: gold earrings; gold Rolex; and at least 3 herringbone gold chains around his neck at a time.

Kavon read well, and he was bright. He showed up in class just enough to barely pass. He told me he had better things to do with his time than sit in school, but his grandma was nagging him to “graduate” from the 8th Grade. He was determined to “walk across the stage” at the end of that year for his grandma to see, then school was over for him. When I asked him why he thought he didn’t need an education, he walked to the classroom window to show me something. “That’s mine,” he said as he pointed to a new creme-color Lexus with gold rims, parked at the foot of the stairs to the school entrance. It was the nicest car in miles. It was also in the best parking spot at the school.

I explained various ways getting an education might be a better long-term plan for him. I said, “Kavon, with your brain, you could be a doctor when you’re 25.” He didn’t skip a beat, and replied, “Ms. Wright, I’m not gonna live to be 25.” I told him that was exactly my point, but he couldn’t see it. That was one of the things that made me truly understand the lack of hope my students had, based simply on the neighborhood they were born into. By the neighborhood’s standards, Kavon was already the biggest man he would ever be. He was a success.

Kavon pointed out the window at his car again. “I bought my grandma a car for Christmas too— exactly like mine.” He was proud of himself. He told me he had paid cash for both cars.

I don’t know how, or if, things ended for Kavon in the 25 years since then. If I go by statistics, I’d have to say he probably went to prison a couple of times, and then got shot and killed during a drug deal, on a street corner by Booker T. Washington Middle School.