A very nice micro-dreadlocked older woman held her umbrella for my daughter to huddle under at Pride. We got talking.
“So where do you live?” She asked me.
“I live in XXXX” (neighborhood with a reputation for rich people/Jews/rich Jewish people.) “With my parents.”
“Oh, I live in the Boston.” She responded. “But my daughter’s in the Metco program, and she goes to school in YYYY” (Neighborhood with a reputation for even richer people, WASPS, and rich WASPS) “Do you have any METCO kids in your school?” She asked my daughter.
“She does,” I replied as my daughter gazed at her in befuddlement. “But I’m not sure which ones are in the Metco program.”
“It’s the black kids!” She responded. Clearly, I was a little slow in her estimation.
“No kidding!” I replied with more bite than I intended. “But there are black kids who live in XXXX. So I’m not sure which kids are in the Metco Program.”
“Oh.” Clearly, this had never occurred to her.
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