Karice
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This is my new Dave story. Here is part 1! 
In my school, Marshall Johnson Academy prep school for boys, the drama teacher Mr. Oleander, was having a play about White slave owners and African slaves. The play was set in 1820, in Georgia. I read the script, and I found that I wanted to be Tukus Alu, a slave. I felt I really connected to Tukus. I went up to Mr. Oleander and asked if I could read for Tukus. Mr. oleander looked at me in surprise. "Are you MAD, Dave? How can you play Tukus?
The reason he looked at me in surprise is because I am a White American boy. Tukus was a black man.
"No, I am not mad. I just want to read for Tukus," I told him softly.
"You're WHITE", Mr. Oleander said. "That would look awkward," he continued. "Why don't you play a slave owner?" He asked me.
"I don't want to play a slave owner. I want to play the slave," I answered.
Mr. Oleander stared at me for a long time, then sighed. "Okay, Dave, I'll let you read some for the part."
I squealed happily.
I took the script and read some of it it, as if I were Tukus. I read, "The White man took my ancestors from our beautiful motherland, Africa and forced us to work for him. I was born into slavery and I am now 20 years old, and have never known even one day of freedom. How I wish I had the freedom my ancestors once knew, over 100 hundred years ago. Oh, how I despise the White people. But, my mother tells me not to despise them and to love them instead. how can i love someone who improsoned me and my family unfairly? They even took my father away from us and sold him up the river. Now I only have memories of him. "
I conveyed real pain in my voice as I read this. I read it like I was a real slave.
Mr. Oleander looked pleasantly surprised. "Dave, you seem to really connect to the character. But,.... it would be awkward to have a White person talking like this. I'll have to let other people audition for this part."
"But, I'm great for this part!" I shouted emotionally.
"Sorry, but you do not look the part," Mr. Oleander said, softly.
I knew what he meant by that. I wasn't Black, so I wouldn't look right.
"Thank you for letting me read the part out loud," I told him sadly and softly.
"You're welcome," he told me with a reluctant face.
I left, sadly.
I went home. I felt horrible that I couldn’t get the part of Tukus just because I was White. What racial discrimination! I really wanted that part! “What a BITCH Mr. Oleander is! He’s a BITCH!” I cried angrily to myself. I lied down on my bed and cried.
“I should be Tukus! “ I cried angrily to myself. If I had been Black, that part would have been mine! I cried for a few more minutes, then got up and called my brother Jack on the phone.
“Hey, Dave,” Jack answered me.
“Hi, Jack,” I answered him.
“What’s up?” Jack asked.
“Jack, do you think it’s wrong for a White boy to play a slave?” I asked him.
“That might make Black people upset,” Jack said softly. “Why do you ask?” Jack asked me.
“I wanted to play a slave, and I was REALLY good at my reading for the part, but I was rejected because I’m White,” I answered Jack.
“Isn’t that racial discrimination?” Jack asked me.
“I thought so too,” I answered.
Jack took a long pause. “Dave, are you sure you could do the part without offending Black people?” He asked me softly.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I answered him.
“So, go to another audition,” Jack urged me.
“Yeah, maybe I will,” I told him.
“Good, “Jack told me. We chatted a while, and then hung up.
Jack is my younger brother, and he’s 14. He was adopted from birth because our parents could only afford to raise our older brother, Ryan, and me at the time. Jack and I met when he transferred to Marshall Johnson. We became really close friends; even before I found out he was my brother. Jack was transferred to another school by all four parents after he got raped and attempted suicide, however. I’m Dave Winston by the way, and I’m 15.
Oh, well, back to the subject. I went to the auditorium too see what the next day for auditions for the role of Tukus would be. I found out it would be tomorrow! I was determined to audition for Tukus!
The next day, I went to the auditorium to audition for Tukus. Mr. Oleander saw me and gave me an exasperated sigh. ‘Look, Dave, you already auditioned for the role of Tukus, yesterday. You were great, but you’re White,” he said.
“No, I didn’t audition,” I said. “I only read for the part. I didn’t audition.”
Mr. Oleander sighed again. “Fine, you can audition. This time there were 5 other people auditioning for the role of Tukus. They were all Black people.
I felt a knot in my stomach. They were all eligible to get the role of Tukus. They “looked” the part. They were all lackluster in their audition, however. When it was my turn to audition, I put my very soul and heart into the audition. You could actually believe I was a slave in 1820. I blew these Black auditioners out of the water. I read the lines like a true slave.
After me, Mr. Oleander still said that he had to audition more people.
“Are you crazy, Mr. Oleander?” I should be Tukus!” I blew the audition right out of the water!” I screamed emotionally.
“Sorry, but you’re White,” he told me again.
I left, angrily. “Fu Mr. Oleander! I yelled to myself. “He doesn’t know a good thing when he sees it!”
I found out that the next audition would be in two days. Two days later, I got out my Star Wars costume. I put it on. I would go audition in my BLACK Dark Invader costume. I went to the audition.
Mr. Oleander looked at me curiously. So did all of the other auditioners. “Hi, I’m the Dark Invader from the Star Wars movie. I am here to audition for the role of Tukus,” I said.
Mr. Oleander said, “Dave, I already told you. You were great, but I can’t really give the role to a White person. He looked a little fed up with me.
“But, I’m Black now,” I said. “I’m dressed in a Black Dark Invader costume!”
“Dave, I know that you love this Tukus character a lot. Enough to put on this costume. But, having a White person play this role just won’t fly,” he told me.
“Can I audition again?” I asked him.
“Sure,” he told me reluctantly.
I auditioned again, stronger than the last two times. I was GREAT again. I WAS Tukus, no matter if I got the audition or not. The other auditioners were wooden.
After the audition, Mr. Tukus shook his head again. “None of you guys are my Tukus. The only one who I could possibly give the Tukus role to is a White boy, which really doesn’t fit into the BLACK slave role,” he said with special emphasis, looking in my direction. He looked upset. “I need to find my Tukus!” He said, sounding destitute.
“I’m right here!” I told him. “I AM Tukus” I shouted.
“Yeah, but you’re not Black, no matter what costume you put on,” Mr. Oleander said.
“Fine, but someday, you’re gonna need me for this role,” I told him. I walked out in a huff.
Later that day, a few Black people weren’t too happy that I had shown up in a villain’s costume saying that I was Black.
Patrick Jensen said, “That was tasteless of you to imply that Black people are evil.” He narrowed his eyes.
“I didn’t mean any harm (I was now in my regular clothes). “I just wanted to appear Black,” I said, holding up my hands in surrender. I didn’t want any trouble.
The Black people stared at me coldly. “How would you like it if I wore a KKK outfit and said that I was White?” Shawn Erickson asked me coldly.
I laughed uncomfortably. The Ku Klux Klan isn’t something you Black people would want to play with. They are nasty people. I’m White, and even I wouldn’t play with the KKK. Let alone if I were Black,” I said.
Martin Allenson said, “You racist cracker. You would dress up in a villain’s costume saying that you are Black, and then say, “You Black people.” He looked angry.
The other people followed Martin’s suit and begun to call me “Whitey Cracker.” The chanted that name so many times, and begun telling me that I was a prejudiced jackass and I got fed up.
“Screw you you Ni!..... I started then said,’ooh…..” I stopped myself just in time. I was about to call them Nig…… (You now the word that rhymes with “Bigger” and stars with an “N). The word Black people don’t like White people to call them. Anyway, I used to call them that word when I was little and assumed that word was a good word to call them since I heard them calling each other that all the time. My mother told me that was a derogatory term, and told me to stop using that word. I made a promise to her to never call Black people that again. I kept that promise for 7 years. I ALMOST broke that promise today.
All of the Black people had heard that syllable. They got really angry. “This bitch just called us…Nig……! Shawn said, angrily. “We can have his ass suspended!”
“No, I didn’t,” I said. I didn’t call you the “N” word,” I told them. You didn’t hear that word come out of my mouth,” I said.
“You said,” Ni.” Andy Brandon said. “So what was the whole word going to be?” he asked me with an angry gleam in his eye.
“It could have been, “Negro”, I said. “Negro” just means “Black person.” Nothing offensive about that word,” I said. It’s different from the other word close to that word, which also starts with an N, but is highly offensive.” I said. Or I could have been calling you “Knicks” as in the New York Knicks.” I said.
“That last one doesn’t make any sense,” Andy said. “We know you were about to call us Nig……..”
“You didn’t even hear the whole word,” I stated. I smirked.
In my school, Marshall Johnson Academy prep school for boys, the drama teacher Mr. Oleander, was having a play about White slave owners and African slaves. The play was set in 1820, in Georgia. I read the script, and I found that I wanted to be Tukus Alu, a slave. I felt I really connected to Tukus. I went up to Mr. Oleander and asked if I could read for Tukus. Mr. oleander looked at me in surprise. "Are you MAD, Dave? How can you play Tukus?
The reason he looked at me in surprise is because I am a White American boy. Tukus was a black man.
"No, I am not mad. I just want to read for Tukus," I told him softly.
"You're WHITE", Mr. Oleander said. "That would look awkward," he continued. "Why don't you play a slave owner?" He asked me.
"I don't want to play a slave owner. I want to play the slave," I answered.
Mr. Oleander stared at me for a long time, then sighed. "Okay, Dave, I'll let you read some for the part."
I squealed happily.
I took the script and read some of it it, as if I were Tukus. I read, "The White man took my ancestors from our beautiful motherland, Africa and forced us to work for him. I was born into slavery and I am now 20 years old, and have never known even one day of freedom. How I wish I had the freedom my ancestors once knew, over 100 hundred years ago. Oh, how I despise the White people. But, my mother tells me not to despise them and to love them instead. how can i love someone who improsoned me and my family unfairly? They even took my father away from us and sold him up the river. Now I only have memories of him. "
I conveyed real pain in my voice as I read this. I read it like I was a real slave.
Mr. Oleander looked pleasantly surprised. "Dave, you seem to really connect to the character. But,.... it would be awkward to have a White person talking like this. I'll have to let other people audition for this part."
"But, I'm great for this part!" I shouted emotionally.
"Sorry, but you do not look the part," Mr. Oleander said, softly.
I knew what he meant by that. I wasn't Black, so I wouldn't look right.
"Thank you for letting me read the part out loud," I told him sadly and softly.
"You're welcome," he told me with a reluctant face.
I left, sadly.
I went home. I felt horrible that I couldn’t get the part of Tukus just because I was White. What racial discrimination! I really wanted that part! “What a BITCH Mr. Oleander is! He’s a BITCH!” I cried angrily to myself. I lied down on my bed and cried.
“I should be Tukus! “ I cried angrily to myself. If I had been Black, that part would have been mine! I cried for a few more minutes, then got up and called my brother Jack on the phone.
“Hey, Dave,” Jack answered me.
“Hi, Jack,” I answered him.
“What’s up?” Jack asked.
“Jack, do you think it’s wrong for a White boy to play a slave?” I asked him.
“That might make Black people upset,” Jack said softly. “Why do you ask?” Jack asked me.
“I wanted to play a slave, and I was REALLY good at my reading for the part, but I was rejected because I’m White,” I answered Jack.
“Isn’t that racial discrimination?” Jack asked me.
“I thought so too,” I answered.
Jack took a long pause. “Dave, are you sure you could do the part without offending Black people?” He asked me softly.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I answered him.
“So, go to another audition,” Jack urged me.
“Yeah, maybe I will,” I told him.
“Good, “Jack told me. We chatted a while, and then hung up.
Jack is my younger brother, and he’s 14. He was adopted from birth because our parents could only afford to raise our older brother, Ryan, and me at the time. Jack and I met when he transferred to Marshall Johnson. We became really close friends; even before I found out he was my brother. Jack was transferred to another school by all four parents after he got raped and attempted suicide, however. I’m Dave Winston by the way, and I’m 15.
Oh, well, back to the subject. I went to the auditorium too see what the next day for auditions for the role of Tukus would be. I found out it would be tomorrow! I was determined to audition for Tukus!
The next day, I went to the auditorium to audition for Tukus. Mr. Oleander saw me and gave me an exasperated sigh. ‘Look, Dave, you already auditioned for the role of Tukus, yesterday. You were great, but you’re White,” he said.
“No, I didn’t audition,” I said. “I only read for the part. I didn’t audition.”
Mr. Oleander sighed again. “Fine, you can audition. This time there were 5 other people auditioning for the role of Tukus. They were all Black people.
I felt a knot in my stomach. They were all eligible to get the role of Tukus. They “looked” the part. They were all lackluster in their audition, however. When it was my turn to audition, I put my very soul and heart into the audition. You could actually believe I was a slave in 1820. I blew these Black auditioners out of the water. I read the lines like a true slave.
After me, Mr. Oleander still said that he had to audition more people.
“Are you crazy, Mr. Oleander?” I should be Tukus!” I blew the audition right out of the water!” I screamed emotionally.
“Sorry, but you’re White,” he told me again.
I left, angrily. “Fu Mr. Oleander! I yelled to myself. “He doesn’t know a good thing when he sees it!”
I found out that the next audition would be in two days. Two days later, I got out my Star Wars costume. I put it on. I would go audition in my BLACK Dark Invader costume. I went to the audition.
Mr. Oleander looked at me curiously. So did all of the other auditioners. “Hi, I’m the Dark Invader from the Star Wars movie. I am here to audition for the role of Tukus,” I said.
Mr. Oleander said, “Dave, I already told you. You were great, but I can’t really give the role to a White person. He looked a little fed up with me.
“But, I’m Black now,” I said. “I’m dressed in a Black Dark Invader costume!”
“Dave, I know that you love this Tukus character a lot. Enough to put on this costume. But, having a White person play this role just won’t fly,” he told me.
“Can I audition again?” I asked him.
“Sure,” he told me reluctantly.
I auditioned again, stronger than the last two times. I was GREAT again. I WAS Tukus, no matter if I got the audition or not. The other auditioners were wooden.
After the audition, Mr. Tukus shook his head again. “None of you guys are my Tukus. The only one who I could possibly give the Tukus role to is a White boy, which really doesn’t fit into the BLACK slave role,” he said with special emphasis, looking in my direction. He looked upset. “I need to find my Tukus!” He said, sounding destitute.
“I’m right here!” I told him. “I AM Tukus” I shouted.
“Yeah, but you’re not Black, no matter what costume you put on,” Mr. Oleander said.
“Fine, but someday, you’re gonna need me for this role,” I told him. I walked out in a huff.
Later that day, a few Black people weren’t too happy that I had shown up in a villain’s costume saying that I was Black.
Patrick Jensen said, “That was tasteless of you to imply that Black people are evil.” He narrowed his eyes.
“I didn’t mean any harm (I was now in my regular clothes). “I just wanted to appear Black,” I said, holding up my hands in surrender. I didn’t want any trouble.
The Black people stared at me coldly. “How would you like it if I wore a KKK outfit and said that I was White?” Shawn Erickson asked me coldly.
I laughed uncomfortably. The Ku Klux Klan isn’t something you Black people would want to play with. They are nasty people. I’m White, and even I wouldn’t play with the KKK. Let alone if I were Black,” I said.
Martin Allenson said, “You racist cracker. You would dress up in a villain’s costume saying that you are Black, and then say, “You Black people.” He looked angry.
The other people followed Martin’s suit and begun to call me “Whitey Cracker.” The chanted that name so many times, and begun telling me that I was a prejudiced jackass and I got fed up.
“Screw you you Ni!..... I started then said,’ooh…..” I stopped myself just in time. I was about to call them Nig…… (You now the word that rhymes with “Bigger” and stars with an “N). The word Black people don’t like White people to call them. Anyway, I used to call them that word when I was little and assumed that word was a good word to call them since I heard them calling each other that all the time. My mother told me that was a derogatory term, and told me to stop using that word. I made a promise to her to never call Black people that again. I kept that promise for 7 years. I ALMOST broke that promise today.
All of the Black people had heard that syllable. They got really angry. “This bitch just called us…Nig……! Shawn said, angrily. “We can have his ass suspended!”
“No, I didn’t,” I said. I didn’t call you the “N” word,” I told them. You didn’t hear that word come out of my mouth,” I said.
“You said,” Ni.” Andy Brandon said. “So what was the whole word going to be?” he asked me with an angry gleam in his eye.
“It could have been, “Negro”, I said. “Negro” just means “Black person.” Nothing offensive about that word,” I said. It’s different from the other word close to that word, which also starts with an N, but is highly offensive.” I said. Or I could have been calling you “Knicks” as in the New York Knicks.” I said.
“That last one doesn’t make any sense,” Andy said. “We know you were about to call us Nig……..”
“You didn’t even hear the whole word,” I stated. I smirked.