The Girl Who Schooled Me: A Friendship Remembered

“Why did you do all this for me?” he asked. “I don’t deserve it. I’ve never done anything for you.” “You have been my friend,” replied Charlotte. “That in itself is a tremendous thing.” ~ E.B. White, Charlotte’s Web

Friendships are important at any time in life. Without them human existence can be a very lonely place. Perhaps nowhere, however, is friendship more important than when we are young. In our youth the world is still our private oyster, largely unspoiled by cynicism and untrammeled by the tragedies and sorrows of life.

As teenagers we are constantly looking for new experiences, new sensations. The people we come to know and trust during this formative period often have a lasting impact upon the attitudes we carry throughout life. The ideas and concepts we embrace at this tender age sometimes remain with us forever. One such formative influence on me was a high school friend of mine, a girl named Denise.

Denise and I were partners in 10th grade biology. We sat side by side all year long, working jointly on class projects such as dissecting dead frogs and learning the zoological chart. Up until that time I not only had no black friends, I was not even well acquainted with anyone of color, having spent much of my early education in an all-white private school.

I immediately liked Denise, however. Besides being funny and upbeat, she was very smart. Making good grades in school was important to her as it was to me, so we shared this in common.

At the time (this was the mid-1970s) “black studies” were just starting to reach the grassroots of many schools. For the first time in our county school’s history there was a black history curriculum, a course that Denise was taking at the time.

Looking back on it now, I see how important this must have been for her. Almost every day she would tell me about something she had learned in class that week, some important event or personage like Harriet Tubman or W.E.B. DuBois.

This was also the era of “Black is Beautiful,” perhaps nowhere more memorably stated than in the Nina Simone classic, To Be Young, Gifted and Black —

To be young, gifted and black,
Oh what a lovely precious dream
To be young, gifted and black,
Open your heart to what I mean…

This was Denise in a nutshell. She was young, she was black, and she was most certainly gifted in speech and ability. Knowing her afforded me the opportunity to ask questions I’d never thought to ask. Sometimes I would offer an opinion on an issue and she would challenge it. A lively but friendly debate would ensue.

Often as not it was I who ended up getting taken to school. Yet, so positive, so friendly, and filled with laughter were our exchanges, I never once felt hurt or put down. Looking back now, I realize just how important those conversations were for me.

Having not yet formed a specific worldview, especially on matters of race and social justice, those talks helped point me in the right direction, one, I hope, that has been based on respect, tolerance, and love. In her own special way Denise was my teacher, whose words and attitude have remained with me all these many years later, long after others have been forgotten.

How I long to know the truth
There are times when I look back
And I am haunted by my youth

Oh but my joy of today
Is that we can all be proud to say
To be young, gifted and black
Is here to stay…