Member-only story

Dangerous Gang Member?

Perhaps not when you’re three feet tall

Katharine Valentino
Age of Empathy

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CRIP logo by SlipperyCuz on DeviantArt (creative commons license)

Two Black men are in front of us in line at the Penney’s checkout counter. My grandson is staring at their shoes — huge, chunky Adidas in royal blue, black and white. They look to be about size 13.

I can just see Quinn at our next stop on this shopping trip. I’ll tell him Van’s tennies are what I used to buy for his father because they’re built to last. He’ll argue for what he’s just now discovered is the perfect shoe. All the kids at summer school will like his new shoes, he’ll say. And they’ll last. Yes, they will. Size 13, he’ll inform me, that’s my size. But of course, he’ll mean preschool 13.

The men are wearing blue bandanas that hide their frown lines, baggy blue sweatshirts, and blue jeans. They’re carrying more sweatshirts in colors ranging from light through royal to navy blue.

A shadow of even darker blue seems to drift over me when one of them turns slightly and I can see a Crip logo on his sleeve.

“Gang members,” I think. “Drug dealers. Murderers.”

So, we’re standing just behind these Crips with little-boy jeans, Spider-Man and Hot Wheels t-shirts, and packages of socks and underpants in our hands. I reach out to keep my grandson from moving forward too close to a possibly dangerous situation, but…

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