Monday, I went to a screening in Harlem for the film "The Prep School Negro", a tale of one man's battle between two world: his poor Black roots, and the privileged white culture he envied and became accustomed to as a student at the Germantown Friends School. A great film; you can find out more about it here.I went to the screening with two high school friends and a group of guys whose flag football team I joined this past fall. And while we only became acquainted a few months ago, in the short time that I've known these guys, I am happy to call them friends. One of them actually already blogged about this outing of ours, which you can read here. I'm unashamedly swagger jacking him right now with a post of my own.
What drew us all to this film was the fact that we were all people of color that went to prestigious prep schools ourselves, all eight of us. We knew the experience firsthand, a tale that often goes untold or misunderstood, but was all too real for us.
Anyway, after watching this telling of our life stories, instead of staying for the question and answer session with the director that followed, one of us suggested that we grab a bite and discuss the film amongst ourselves. I thought that'd be a great idea in theory, but filtered the message as "Let's go eat and BS for a lil". I should have known better.
I was pretty compelled by the content of the film and wanted to meet the director, so I stayed behind to listen to a few questions and told everyone I'd meet up with them in a little bit. What struck me most about the film was how deep the director went into his personal life, the details of which were far from glamorous: He grew up without a father; his mother worked in a factory that his classmate's father owned; he lived with a mother and sister who not only did not understand his experience going through prep school--he believed at the time they did not sympathize with it either. Ouch.
He eventually did find a place where he felt he did belong, his "white family". He often visited and stayed with the family of one of his best friends from Germantown Friends. He found affection, acceptance, and self-esteem in this family, feelings he did not get from his own. And while some people would pull his Black card and call him a white boy or a sellout, who can blame him from going where he was happy?
Years later, however, he is making this film that confronts his regret for "losing his Blackness" and not developing a strong relationship with his immediate family. But was that really his fault? That being said, was it his family's fault? The school's?
I left the Q&A session after the 5th long-winded question, stomach grumbling, mouth watering, and ready to eat (...). I wondered at what fine establishment I would be meeting the other guys, when I got a text from my friend that said, "We're at Burger King on 125th". As I read the text, I thought to myself,
So I walked my bougie ass past Sylvia's, Red Rooster, Lenox Lounge, Harlem Lanes, and other viable, classy venues, and entered the home of the Whopper to find an empty restaurant save the four tables my friends occupied, where they were having a serious round table discussion about the film. The debate was so intense, I dared not interrupt to say "hi" upon arrival. I just put my stuff down quietly and went to the register to order.
When I sat down, I didn't know I would be in for a two and a half hour conversation. But I chowed down on my jalapeno cheddar stuffed steakhouse, listening intently to comments on race, social pressures, and the struggle to belong. And amidst thoughts of "Got damn, this burger's good," I realized that the reason we could even have an impromptu conversation like this was because we had all been through the same experiences. It's the same reason I connected with these dudes so easily over the past few months. The only other people to whom I feel a natural affinity like this are fellow alumni of Prep for Prep.
We come from schools where Black people may number in the single digits. We'd be a minority in any other circle. We talk "white". It takes a long time to actually take pride in these traits. And while we tend to notice how much we might not fit in elsewhere, at this Burger King we fit in perfectly with each other. Yes, our small fraternity of prep school negroes.
