Naive is not a word I’d use to describe the Strawboss. I’d like to think nothing could surprise me anymore, but the other day I came across an article about segregated proms. That’s right, segregated proms.
Apparently, this is still a tradition in parts of the South. I know, shocker. It’s legal because it’s not sponsored by the school. They literally stage a Black Prom and a White Prom. According to the students, parents are keeping this tradition alive, and there’s an unspoken rule that Blacks are not welcome to the White prom. Except for when some Black kids were asked to leave. Then it was pretty much spoken.
Now, I could understand if this was the result of cultural fallout from an attempt at an integrated prom. You know, the white kids wanted a Metro Station cover band, and the black kids were like, “WTF?! You wanna have our dance on a train? We havin’ our own d@mn prom!” But alas, it’s just good ol fashioned racism, aged to perfection in the a dark cellar of a cold heart.
I am the Strawboss. If you’re thinkin’ about my baby, it don’t matter if you’re black or white.