Savage.
It all started with a field trip. Our school had arranged for us to visit our local farm, which is located just outside the segregation unit, a thirty minute drive to the rich people’s gated neighborhood. We were all ecstatic, and I couldn’t wait to visit the farm. It was the first time I had left the segregation unit.
“Are you as excited as I am, Savage?” Marsha fizzed with exhilaration.
I couldn’t wait to meet the cows, chickens, and pigs. Naah!I was just relieved to be out of the segregation unit.
At the time, the world was a marvel to me, and this large structure with barbed wires and men in uniform both terrified and mesmerized me at the same time.
We saw the animals as scheduled, took school pictures in the farm, nothing out of the ordinary.
We had to head back to
