This one is for Danza
When I was 11 I moved in with my father. His neighborhood was a much better neighborhood than my mom’s and he had a much more comfortable house. I was in supposedly better surroundings. There were no gangs, less crime, less kids getting into trouble, the school was better, etc. I wore the same raggedy clothes I wore to my old school, where I blended in fine because everyone was poor there. At the new school the kids had nice shit and started raggin’ on me almost from jump.
At my new school, called Solis, there was this skinny, dark skinned kid that gave the teachers a very hard time. His name was Danza. He defied them in every way possible. It scared me and intrigued me at the same time whenever he’d show his boldness. I remember when we had a speaker in class Danza was spinning his metal scissors on the desk making all kind of noise while everyone else kept quiet. Our teacher came behind him and tried to take the scissors away and he snatched them back from her. They were at a tug of war with those stupid little things. He screamed at her, “These are my scissors!!!” and she told him to hand them over to her. The speaker had to stop talking and all eyes were on them. She eventually took the scissors and sent him to the principal’s office. He was always getting in fights, arguments, defying all authority including the police, and one day he just didn’t come back to school. I don’t know if he’d been expelled, or if his family had moved, nothing. All I knew is he was gone. In looking back at his behavior, it’s obvious that he was either born with a behavior problem or there was something very wrong at home. His behavior was a sign that he was headed for jail or death at a very young age.
I hated the new school because I had absolutely no friends. Everyone messed with me there… everyone except Danza. He eventually started standing up for me. He’d tell the other kids to shut up, or include me in an activity when I was alone, or he’d make some time and talk to me when I was sitting alone while the other kids got in their cliques. I remember I was very quiet despite his friendliness. I don’t know why I stayed shy. He persisted in talking to me and standing up for me though. I remember one day for P.E. the kids were picking teams and everyone was getting picked but me; I wasn’t exactly in the best shape nor did I have any skills at sports. Before I was the last kid in the crowd to get picked he came up to me and said “We’ll take THE SAGA,” even though he wasn’t the one choosing the team members. He forced his decision on the team and they didn’t defy him. While they kept picking he took me aside and explained to me the rules of touch football and showed me which way to run whenever the ball was thrown my way. Whenever he’d get the ball he’d give it to me and tell me to run and I’d run with all my might. I’d still get touched for the tackle shortly afterwards but he didn’t care that I wasn’t scoring points. He was just making sure I’d stay in the game. On the days that he wasn’t at school I’d get ragged on and I’d go home and cry or just sit at the edge of my bed and stare out into space wondering why I had to go through all that shit. Sometimes I’d lighten up though because I’d say to myself, “It’s cool cuz Danza’s my friend.” I found comfort in his friendship… it was pretty much the only comfort I had in elementary school. I think back to how much he helped me and it bothers me now whenever I think that he may have been fighting some malevolent demons at home as a child.
When he stopped coming to school, I didn’t realize it for a few days. I didn’t ask about it or anything because I didn’t care to talk to anyone. It bothered me though because now I didn’t have anyone to help me against the other kids. I wondered if he was coming back, where he was, if he was okay, or if he’d been arrested. I still wonder these things; I wonder if he’s gotten his life together or if he met the dreadful fate that seemed to be awaiting him.
This kid, Danza… he may have been a demon in most people’s eyes because of all the trouble he caused, but he was an angel to me. I don’t know what he saw in me to stand up for me so much; all I can say is that God must have put him there for me. I realize that the tribulations I faced were there to teach me humility and Danza must have been brought into my life to create some kind of balance. Without him there I don’t think I would have been able to keep my sanity. I thank God for Danza. I wish I knew where he was so I could tell him thanks for saving me.
So, I sit here and say this to Danza (wherever he may be) with all the sincerity my heart has to offer: Thanks for standing up for me. Thanks for helping me keep my head up. Thanks for helping me save what was left of my self esteem. Thank you for coming into my life, even if it was for just a few months. You were my guardian angel.
At my new school, called Solis, there was this skinny, dark skinned kid that gave the teachers a very hard time. His name was Danza. He defied them in every way possible. It scared me and intrigued me at the same time whenever he’d show his boldness. I remember when we had a speaker in class Danza was spinning his metal scissors on the desk making all kind of noise while everyone else kept quiet. Our teacher came behind him and tried to take the scissors away and he snatched them back from her. They were at a tug of war with those stupid little things. He screamed at her, “These are my scissors!!!” and she told him to hand them over to her. The speaker had to stop talking and all eyes were on them. She eventually took the scissors and sent him to the principal’s office. He was always getting in fights, arguments, defying all authority including the police, and one day he just didn’t come back to school. I don’t know if he’d been expelled, or if his family had moved, nothing. All I knew is he was gone. In looking back at his behavior, it’s obvious that he was either born with a behavior problem or there was something very wrong at home. His behavior was a sign that he was headed for jail or death at a very young age.
I hated the new school because I had absolutely no friends. Everyone messed with me there… everyone except Danza. He eventually started standing up for me. He’d tell the other kids to shut up, or include me in an activity when I was alone, or he’d make some time and talk to me when I was sitting alone while the other kids got in their cliques. I remember I was very quiet despite his friendliness. I don’t know why I stayed shy. He persisted in talking to me and standing up for me though. I remember one day for P.E. the kids were picking teams and everyone was getting picked but me; I wasn’t exactly in the best shape nor did I have any skills at sports. Before I was the last kid in the crowd to get picked he came up to me and said “We’ll take THE SAGA,” even though he wasn’t the one choosing the team members. He forced his decision on the team and they didn’t defy him. While they kept picking he took me aside and explained to me the rules of touch football and showed me which way to run whenever the ball was thrown my way. Whenever he’d get the ball he’d give it to me and tell me to run and I’d run with all my might. I’d still get touched for the tackle shortly afterwards but he didn’t care that I wasn’t scoring points. He was just making sure I’d stay in the game. On the days that he wasn’t at school I’d get ragged on and I’d go home and cry or just sit at the edge of my bed and stare out into space wondering why I had to go through all that shit. Sometimes I’d lighten up though because I’d say to myself, “It’s cool cuz Danza’s my friend.” I found comfort in his friendship… it was pretty much the only comfort I had in elementary school. I think back to how much he helped me and it bothers me now whenever I think that he may have been fighting some malevolent demons at home as a child.
When he stopped coming to school, I didn’t realize it for a few days. I didn’t ask about it or anything because I didn’t care to talk to anyone. It bothered me though because now I didn’t have anyone to help me against the other kids. I wondered if he was coming back, where he was, if he was okay, or if he’d been arrested. I still wonder these things; I wonder if he’s gotten his life together or if he met the dreadful fate that seemed to be awaiting him.
This kid, Danza… he may have been a demon in most people’s eyes because of all the trouble he caused, but he was an angel to me. I don’t know what he saw in me to stand up for me so much; all I can say is that God must have put him there for me. I realize that the tribulations I faced were there to teach me humility and Danza must have been brought into my life to create some kind of balance. Without him there I don’t think I would have been able to keep my sanity. I thank God for Danza. I wish I knew where he was so I could tell him thanks for saving me.
So, I sit here and say this to Danza (wherever he may be) with all the sincerity my heart has to offer: Thanks for standing up for me. Thanks for helping me keep my head up. Thanks for helping me save what was left of my self esteem. Thank you for coming into my life, even if it was for just a few months. You were my guardian angel.
The Saga was recounted at 7:06 AM
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