Big Mama

To be filed under How I Found Out My Name … My school was once a Carnegie Library located in the heart of downtown so the streets outside were always bustling. Of a day, a lady had a car breakdown. Two of my babies were on their way in and stopped to help. The woman went off on them. (Remember these kids were with me because of weapons possession). A boy was ready to throw down. The “lady” was White but because her boyfriend was Black (he arrived on the scene later) she felt very comfortable tossing disparaging epithets at the kids. As those kids sat before me relaying their version of what could have been a truly horrific incident, I asked how the one student defused the other … I was told, in the most matter of fact way, “I told him we needed to go inside and let Big Mama handle it.” As time passed, I heard my “name” on other occasions and was rather pleased with it. When I got back outside, crazy lady was continuing her rant … by now, the boyfriend had arrived and wasn’t having any part of the breakdown being the fault of everybody walking by. I did not have to do anything as another of my babies had also arrived on the scene … Deputy Chief of Police Hanna was there. I loved that my life was what I dreamed it to be when watching the film “Good Morning, Miss Dove.”

A corollary to this tale took place long after I retired. I went to Syracuse to see my bff who was at Crouse Hospital. As we went down the long entrance hallway, we heard “Big Mama … Big Mama.” I turned to see “Blue”, one of my students from over thirty years before. She had worked in the hospital for the three decades since she was graduated from Central Tech HS. By the time I ended my run, my babies were the children of those I had taught in my youth. My “name” had been passed down thru the years but I didn’t know it until the day referenced above. So glad I didn’t miss it entirely.