Negro Geography is a game I don’t play particularly well. I think I missed the Jack and Jill meeting where the rules were explained.
In a word, I moved from the black ghetto to an (almost) all white suburb — and missed the rules meeting.
From what I gather, Negro Geography is this absolutely dreadful buppie game that one plays with middle class blacks. Admittedly, I don’t get out much, so this was my first time playing after three years in Los Angeles.
"What do you do?"
"Where did you go to school?"
"Do you know the _____ (insert your favorite, African-American, US Congressman, Judge, or Civil Rights Leader here) family? No? They’re my cousin’s, son’s godparents — good family."
For a minute there during the interrogation, I felt like I was on the east coast, but I digress.
Now, as a good player, I believe I’m supposed to ask the same questions. But, admittedly, I’m a little self-centered, and don’t really care about those good Jack and Jill, Boule, Greek loving families — they’re not mine.
Delta? No? No matter what, I couldn’t be pinned down.
No, what I really wanted to say when this started was — "Girl, I won’t play this game — my family are sharecroppers from Mississippi." But, I was trying to be nice — I’ve toned down my rhetoric. Can’t you tell?