No son, it’s not the circus

Lawrence R. Bethea
Greensboro, NC

In 1960 as a young Afro-American child ( 6yrs.old ) growing up in Greensboro,N.C. (home of the civil rights sit-in movement), my mother took me shopping downtown. As we waited on the bus to carry us home, I noticed a large group of men walking down the street in white robes with hoods that covered their faces I became very excited, thinking that the circus was in town. I shouted out very loudly, “Look mom, the circus clowns”. I started to run towards them when my mother clasped my hand very tightly and looked me in the eye. With fear in her trembling voice, she said very lovingly to me,” NO SON, IT’S NOT THE CIRCUS”.


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