"Why Our Children Hate Us"/Part #3

This was the page that drew me in...

The Instincts of Geese ("Why Our Children Hate Us")

It was a beautiful, late spring day. A bold, yellow sun- the kind of sun children draw with fat crayons-balanced in a clear, blue sky above. The wind was calm and Philadelphia's murky, green Schuylkill River was a deceptive oasis. I pulled the van into a parking lot near the river, opened the door and my three-year-old daughter dashed toward the water. I chased. In milliseconds, she was within my over-protective grip, laughing and struggling to be free. I released her, allowing her the chance to run several yards up. Suddently she stopped near a patch of grass and bushes, stooping down and extending her hand. From behind the bushes, three baby geese-goslings-appeared. they ignored her innocent hand, moving to her side and continuing toward bread scraps in the grass. Slowly she followed them, unaware that nearly 30 adult geese were angrily approaching her small back.

I dashed to my child, lifting her from the ground just as three geese snapped at her legs. All three missed, but I kicked one in the stomach for good measure. The goose gawked, fluttered his wings and quickly got to its feet. "Damn geese!" i shouted, backing away with my daughter. The whole flock appeared to stare at me, gawking loudly, some flapping their wings and jumping. I put my child back in the van, still watching the birds watch me. "I wanna see the ducks! " my daughter cried. "I wanna see the ducks!" "Okay," I told her. "Wait just a minute."
The geese still stared. Two walked toward our van. "Goddamn, " I shispered under my breath. "These things are serious."

The three goslings were long gone, nowhere in sight. But the adult geese were still defending their territory. Still defendling their babies. There was no way of knowing which geese were the goslings "parents." All of them responded with the same rage. They came in a pack, a unit. All at once.

Instinct. Simple instinct. They weren't going to wait for something to happen to their babies; they were determined to prevent it from the very beginning. Instinct. No deliberation, No ambiguity, Instinct.

If those goslings had been Black children, Black adults would have handed them over-no questions asked. "Here. Take our children. Roast them. Eat them. Have them for dinner." If those goslings were Black children, most of the adults would have ignored the danger, refused to intercede. "That's not my child, " they would say. "That's not my business."

Geese fight harder than most Black people. That's why our children hate us.