I was looking out the window at a squalid landscape of abandoned factories and railroad tracks. Maybe I lived in Baltimore! An inner city elementary school field trip happened to walk by, lead by two well-meaning white thirty-seven-year-olds wearing Tevas. The female teacher was trying to get the kids excited about the artistic style of the graffiti, but the kids were slouching and scowling and pulling their pants up so they could walk. There were mutterings from the class that art is “gay.”
Lady teacher asks “But what about Spanish artists, don’t you like them?”
“I’m motherfucking Puerto Rican, you bitch!” yelled the last kid in the line.
The male teacher pipes in “What about GOYA, he made some badass shit!”
Lady teacher says “Spanish people sure do love GOYA. They eat it for dinner. How crazy is that?”
And the two teachers laughed together, and the kids hucked rocks from the railroad bed at them.
I woke up going: Damn, damn, damn.