Ghost Boys by Jewell Parker Rhodes

If there’s something I’m learning about myself, it’s that there’s no rhyme or reason to where and when inspiration will strike.

Today I worked with a group of preteens who had been given a diary entry assignment. They had been reading a book called Ghost Boys, and had been tasked with writing from the perspective of the main character, a black boy who had been shot by a white police officer because he was carrying a toy gun. The author was inspired to write the book based on tragic real-life events experienced by people of colour every day. I’ve never heard of the book or the author before, so I asked a child to tell me what the story was about.

They gave an excellent synopsis, and I was inspired to read the book. Since that was earlier today, I haven’t gotten round to it yet! But what the pupil failed to include in their synopsis was that Jerome, the main character, was black. This was raised by another student later on. I felt it was a really good teaching point for the students, all of whom but one had white skin.

I said that the pupil hadn’t mentioned race because they hadn’t realised that was the message or theme of the story. I pointed out that was a privilege those of us with white skin have that people of colour do not. I told them that it was really good that they were reading this book, because now that they knew about the issue, they could become allies. I hope it gave them something to think about.

Although I have not read the book, and although the assignment was not for me, I’m not going to be happy until I get my diary entry written. It’s based only on what I picked up from the students today, and it probably includes spoilers.

So here is my diary entry as Jerome’s ghost:

Dear Diary,

When I was alive, I didn’t believe in ghosts, and I didn’t believe in time travel. I wish instead of ghosts being real, time travel was instead.

If time travel was real, I’d go back in time and leave my toy gun in the house. Maybe I wouldn’t go out that day at all, just in case I was fired at for some other reason. Then I’d be alive. Then my family would not be crying all the time, while I look on as a ghost not able to comfort them. I can only watch them suffer.

If I could change what happened that day, my sister would never have had the trauma of seeing her brother shot and killed.

Maybe I would go back even further, back to the day that guy decided to become a police officer. I could convince him to be something else. Maybe a vet – I bet he likes animals. Maybe a security guard. Then he wouldn’t be allowed to carry a gun. Maybe a long-distance truck driver who spent his working day alone on the road, not looking for people to shoot or excuses to shoot them.

Was there some time in the past where I could have changed the way black people are viewed and treated? Was there some event in history that sealed our fate, to be assumed criminals and wrong doers just because we’re black? Can that ever be changed, is that why the ghost boys still roam around? We won’t get our final rest until the problem doesn’t exist anymore. I hope that day comes.

But I can’t go back in time or change what happened any more than I could change the colour of my skin.

I hope tomorrow is a better day. I hope my family feel less sad or that I can find a way to let them know I am still with them. I hope tomorrow is a better day all over the world, and no-one gets shot when they were doing nothing wrong.

I hope all us ghost boys get our peace. Until we do Diary, you’ll hear from me again.