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Vigor Gilbert Allen
I. Fall 1960, and a new school year! Just think of it— nine-year-old boys, strutting around, appropriating shit- faced Boston accents, shouting This country must move ahead with viggah! To the sideways smiles of teachers, Mom and Dad, even the principal. Weekends to the Italian store- keeper, who sold us sodas, watched us stuff stuff (on a dare) under our shirts. Stayed mute. We were considered cute. II. I truly don’t remember who came up with it—but it was in the “cafetorium.” In a New York minute we all intoned, Our country must move ahead with viggah! After a pause, revealing our cleverness—No niggahs! We went back to our three-cent milks, nursing them in silence. A PTA mom, chatting with two black custodians, said nothing. But she heard. They heard. They must have heard. |
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