Because of my love for the sitcom “Friends,” my theme this month is dedicated to that love. The title of every sitcom started with “The One Where.”
I’ve talked about this topic before, and I thought I would change the script just a tad bit. If you want to read the original and real take, then please click My White Girl Team.
Ever since this incident happened, I can’t help but think about what I wish I had done. Now, if you clicked the link above, then you know my daughter’s basketball coach should have been punched in his throat. The last thing this group of girls needed was a coach that added more racism to this team.
In the past, our school had a few of the white students that felt superior to other races. The word nigger has been said a time or two and directed towards black students. However, I suspect after the last fight at the school, they will think twice about letting that word come out with such ease.
I digress, I remember when my daughter and her friend told me that the girls on the team made them feel left out. Treating them as if they weren’t there. Then the coach added fuel to the fire by calling them his “White girl team.”
How in the hell did he think this would make the nonwhites feel?
Maybe he didn’t care how it made them feel. Especially since only 3 of them weren’t white.
Or did he think this was a privilege to be called white? Like since you are here, then you are one of us.
I don’t know, I can’t make sense of a 50-year-old man (not a child) saying something so offensive. I’ll never forget the look on his face when I walked through the door to take my sit. I stared directly into his eyes throughout the entire meeting. If I could’ve shot beams out of my eyes, then I would have.
When he initially denied calling them his white girl team. I told him he had one more time to call my daughter a liar. Now I don’t know what I would’ve done if he uttered those words again, but I don’t think our meeting would’ve ended too pretty. In fact, I often fantasize about jumping on top of the table. Then leaping off the table with my arms stretched out towards his neck, and my hands spread wide so I could grip his neck. Then I end my choke out session with, “If you ever mess with my daughter, you will never work in this city again.” I’ve always wanted to use that line!
Instead, he let tears fall and begged for forgiveness. Damn it!
You could have chosen any blog to read, but you chose mine, and I’m honored!
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