"The Lesson," by Toni Cade Bambara (1972)
Author: Toni Cade Bambara
Bambara,Toni Cade. "The Lesson." Literature: a Portable Anthology, edited by Janet E. Gardner et al., Bedford/St. Martin's, 2017.
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Back in the days when everyone was old and stupid or young and foolish and me and Sugar were the only ones just right, this lady moved on our block with nappy hair and proper speech and no makeup. And quite naturally we laughed at her, laughed the way we did at the junk man who went about his business like he was some big-time president and his sorry-ass horse his secretary. And we kinda hated her too, hated the way we did the winos who cluttered up our parks and pissed on our handball walls and stank up our hallways and stairs so you couldn’t halfway play hide-and-seek without a goddamn gas mask. Miss Moore was her name. The only woman on the block with no first name. And she was black as hell, cept for her feet, which were fish-white and spooky. And she was always planning these boring-ass things for us to do, us being my cousin, mostly, who lived on the block cause we all moved North the same time and to the same apartment then spread out gradual to breathe. And our parents would yank our heads into some kinda shape and crisp up our clothes so we’d be presentable for travel with Miss Moore, who always looked like she was going to church though she never did. Which is just one of the things the grownups talked about when they talked behind her back like a dog. But when she came calling with some sachet she’d sewed up or some gingerbread she’d made or some book, why then they’d all be too embarrassed to turn her down and we’d get handed over all spruced up. She’d been to college and said it was only right that she should take responsibility for the young ones’ education, and she not even related by marriage or blood. So they’d go for it. Specially Aunt Gretchen. She was the main gofer in the family. You got some ole dumb shit foolishness you want somebody to go for, you send for Aunt Gretchen. She been screwed into the go-along for so long, it’s a blood-deep natural thing with her. Which is how she got saddled with me and Sugar and Junior in the first place while our mothers were in a la-de-da apartment up the block having a good ole time.
racial characteristic people do not enjoy together the meaning of having a good time because all the inequality that African American people were living or suffering.
was so expensive and therefore they did understand that the world was not divided fair and the whole world was full of bull**** because of the racial and economic division.
This reminds me of.. the environment that i live on.
This makes me think of.. the same language the writer is using is what people these days.
this is similar to my personal life because sometimes your friends/family.
describes as a child who hated and judged people over appearances.
this line is describing how miss Moore look and how people are making fun on her attitude of being a person who believe in history
Teenagers always think that they are right and they have the world in their hand.
she use that word back in the days like when she was a little girl or young
From reading the story I noticed that its talking back in the days and from my knowledge the teens aren’t use to any new environment but there own.
she don have first name but she is at good to then.
But Sylvia (the narrator) is telling us that it’s different that they don’t call her by her first name.
He told his friend the lady is moved on they block with a nappy hair…
I think there is a stronger reason why they say they hate her….do you think they REALLY hate her, or she just annoys them?
This is shows that the teenager were living in a slum area aroound toxic people
you cant hate somebody that is just trying to keep you out of danger, because shes the only whos gonna saved you if you get in trouble.
because she didn’t let then play hide and seek
i like how I instantly knew this person “miss Moore” was gonna be a character of great importance to the story. that and someone who would be annoying the author through the story as the previous and next sentence says the type of person Miss Moore is.
even when they were trying to play Hide and seek as well as handball
because they are racist that they are talking about the color of the lady’s skin
Racism and colorism are big problems even inside a cultural group.
why would you get mad at somebody whos making plans for you, shes wasting her personal time on you so you can have fun.
The kids belong in low class in the society because they don’t even have presentable clothe in the case of traveling
The teenagers think that she is not a good person and she always pretend
this shows that just like today back in the days people appearance influence how well they were treated how much they should be respected.
I said this is a simile because the author is using “like” to compare two things.
Ms.Moore has been having trouble with money like Sugar and his friends and she was actually poor but had her was to have money frequently.
She’s really good lady (Ms.Moore) because she used her life and college experience to help young people who’s not from her family and guide them to the right path (Education), while that time where most young African American male and female were accept their unfairly situation and not dreaming to go far and having better future by fight to learn and being educated.
She got the education that she want and spins her time so they can worry about the school
So this one day Miss Moore rounds us all up at the mailbox and it’s puredee hot and she’s knockin herself out about arithmetic. And school suppose to let up in summer I heard, but she don’t never let up. And the starch in my pinafore scratching the shit outta me and I’m really hating this nappy-head bitch and her goddamn college degree. I’d much rather go to the pool or to the show where it’s cool. So me and Sugar leaning on the mailbox being surly, which is a Miss Moore word. And Flyboy checking out what everybody brought for lunch. And Fat Butt already wasting his peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich like the pig he is. And Junebug punchin on Q.T.’s arm for potato chips. And Rosie Giraffe shifting from one hip to the other waiting for somebody to step on her foot or ask her if she from Georgia so she can kick ass, preferably Mercedes’. And Miss Moore asking us do we know what money is like we a bunch of retards. I mean real money, she say, like it’s only poker chips or monopoly papers we lay on the grocer. So right away I’m tired of this and say so. And would much rather snatch Sugar and go to the Sunset and terrorize the West Indian kids and take their hair ribbons and their money too. And Miss Moore files that remark away for next week’s lesson on brotherhood, I can tell. And finally I say we oughta get to the subway cause it’s cooler an’ besides we might meet some cute boys. Sugar done swiped her mama’s lipstick, so we ready.
depending on the race and as well the author wants to show that Ms More would bring a better solution for the education in the society
The teacher is having a hard time/knocking herself out trying explain arithmetic to the students.
is a good resource to use while putting the three stories on your own perspective and is jut so well stated in different ways
This shows how miss Moore is putting afford to guide this neighborhood girls on a better patch, but she dont see it that way and dont appreciate it
she was trying to be not around miss moore thats much of time
compare. I like the way the author is using simile every time she is telling the truth.
So we heading down the street and she’s boring us silly about what things cost and what our parents make and how much goes for rent and how money ain’t divided up right in this country. And then she gets to the part about we all poor and live in the slums which I don’t feature. And I’m ready to speak on that, but she steps out in the street and hails two cabs just like that. Then she hustles half the crew in with her and hands me a five-dollar bill and tells me to calculate 10 percent tip for the driver. And we’re off. Me and Sugar and Junebug and Flyboy hangin out the window and hollering to everybody, putting lipstick on each other cause Flyboy a faggot anyway, and making farts with our sweaty armpits. But I’m mostly trying to figure how to spend this money. But they are fascinated with the meter ticking and Junebug starts laying bets as to how much it’ll read when Flyboy can’t hold his breath no more. Then Sugar lays bets as to how much it’ll be when we get there. So I’m stuck. Don’t nobody want to go for my plan, which is to jump out at the next light and run off to the first bar-b-que we can find. Then the driver tells us to get the hell out cause we there already. And the meter reads eighty-five cents. And I’m stalling to figure out the tip and Sugar say give him a dime. And I decide he don’t need it bad as I do, so later for him. But then he tries to take off with Junebug foot still in the door so we talk about his mama something ferocious. Then we check out that we on Fifth Avenue and everybody dressed up in stockings. One lady in a fur coat, hot as it is. White folks crazy.
I think the author is trying to just show that she do not care about what Miss Moore is talking about but in her mind she really care about it
they work hard to get the money for the rent,and this is not silly.
: Great understanding
To get to a final thought or idea like this it really shows that you as a reader focus on the details that the authors provided in a much deeper way than what a normal reader will focus which also illustrated your understanding
i think they are her close friend because they all jump out the windo togethere
because they are trying to cause problems for the lady
I think that these kids are gangsters, they are thief, and they do not respect elder. because they are poor, they should not let their desire affect their personality.
“This is the place, “ Miss Moore say, presenting it to us in the voice she uses at the museum. “Let’s look in the windows before we go in.”
i think that they where looking at the window because they where trying to see something
“Can we steal?” Sugar asks very serious like she’s getting the ground rules squared away before she plays. “I beg your pardon,” say Miss Moore, and we fall out. So she leads us around the windows of the toy store and me and Sugar screamin, “This is mine, that’s mine, I gotta have that, that was made for me, I was born for that,” till Big Butt drowns us out.
this reminds me of the time when I was younger. when my mother would bring me into an electronic store or some place that has toys of any kind. my first thought would be "i need to have this’ just how the character Sugar was saying. course i stopped that habit of a selfish young me but its still around with younger kids i see when i go out, hell even little siblings do this
The kids knew exactly what they were doing which led to one of them asking if they could still because if anyone wanted to steal they won’t make it work
ms moore should be aprecciated a lil bit more shes always spending her personal time on yall so ya could have fun.
How you see the issue in society is just so relate to situations that happen constantly nowadays
they wanted the toy so bad that they where screaming and yelling to make sure they get it
“Hey, I’m goin to buy that there.”
“That there? You don’t even know what it is, stupid.”
The group of the teenagers was exposed to a “new world”, a world where they have no idea about its texture and appearance. They were kind of sedated in their neighborhood.They felt that they don’t belong there and their sense of humor was the only way to resist their reyality.
“I do so,” he say punchin on Rosie Giraffe. “It’s a microscope.” “Whatcha gonna do with a microscope, fool?”
“Look at things.”
“Like what, Ronald?” ask Miss Moore. And Big Butt ain’t got the first notion. So here go Miss Moore gabbing about the thousands of bacteria in a drop of water and the somethinorother in a speck of blood and the million and one living things in the air around us is invisible to the naked eye. And what she say that for? Junebug go to town on that “naked” and we rolling. Then Miss Moore ask what it cost. So we all jam into the window smudgin it up and the price tag say $300. So then she ask how long’d take for Big Butt and Junebug to save up their allowances. “Too long,” I say. “Yeh,” adds Sugar, “outgrown it by that time.” And Miss Moore say no, you never outgrow learning instruments. “Why, even medical students and interns and,” blah, blah, blah. And we ready to choke Big Butt for bringing it up in the first damn place.
it shows that they are low economically they cant afford what they went to buy, it would be better is they go to a cheaper store so they wont leave with theirs hand empty.
This is hard work .
the narrator shows how intelligent and how much she cares about the kids having knowledge and being protected by trying to talk bad on her knowledge.
“This here costs four hundred eighty dollars,” say Rosie Giraffe. So we pile up all over her to see what she pointin out. My eyes tell me it’s a chunk of glass cracked with something heavy, and dif-ferent-color inks dripped into the splits, then the whole thing put into a oven or something. But for $480 it don’t make sense.
“That’s a paperweight made of semi-precious stones fused together under tremendous pressure,” she explains slowly, with her hands doing the mining and all the factory work.
“So what’s a paperweight?” asks Rosie Giraffe.
“To weigh paper with, dumbbell,” say Flyboy, the wise man from the East.
Flyboy is not aware of the world around him because of the environment he grew up in. He thinks he, maybe, knows everything or he doesn’t want to know anything because he thinks that the “world” is his neighborhood.
“Not exactly,” say Miss Moore, which is what she say when you warm or way off too. “It’s to weigh paper down so it won’t scatter and make your desk untidy. “ So right away me and Sugar curtsy to each other and then to Mercedes who is more the tidy type.
“We don’t keep paper on top of the desk in my class,” say Junebug, figuring Miss Moore crazy or lyin one.
“At home, then,” she say. “Don’t you have a calendar and a pencil case and a blotter and a let-ter-opener on your desk at home where you do your homework?” And she know damn well what our homes look like cause she nosys around in them every chance she gets.
She knows that these kids don’t have any of these things she is talking about, but she still pretends she doesn’t know, maybe, because she doesn’t want to admit the reality of the racial disparity in U.S.
“I don’t even have a desk,” say Junebug. “Do we?”
“No. And I don’t get no homework neither,” says Big Butt.
“And I don’t even have a home,” say Flyboy like he do at school to keep the white folks off his back and sorry for him. Send this poor kid to camp posters, is his specialty.
“I do,” says Mercedes. “I have a box of stationery on my desk and a picture of my cat. My god-mother bought the stationery and the desk. There’s a big rose on each sheet and the envelopes smell like roses.”
“Who wants to know about your smelly-ass stationery,” say Rosie Giraffe fore I can get my two cents in.
“It’s important to have a work area all your own so that . . .”
I agree with that
“Will you look at this sailboat, please,” say Flyboy, cuttin her off and pointin to the thing like it was his. So once again we tumble all over each other to gaze at this magnificent thing in the toy store which is just big enough to maybe sail two kittens across the pond if you strap them to the posts tight. We all start reciting the price tag like we in assembly. “Hand-crafted sailboat of fiberglass at one thousand one hundred ninety-five dollars.”
They couldn’t believe the price of the sailboat and that shows that 5th Avenue was another world for them.This reinforces the racial inequality in the U.S.
“Unbelievable,” I hear myself say and am really stunned. I read it again for myself just in case the group recitation put me in a trance. Same thing. For some reason this pisses me off. We look at Miss Moore and she lookin at us, waiting for I dunno what.
“Who’d pay all that when you can buy a sailboat set for a quarter at Pop’s, a tube of glue for a dime, and a ball of string for eight cents? It must have a motor and a whole lot else besides,” I say. “My sailboat cost me about fifty cents.”
He think that the price of the fiberglass is expensive and not worthy. Also, he can make ine by him slef, but he doesn’t want to acknoweldge that the one he make can’t sail. He can’t belive the differences between the “two world”, so he try to convience himself that both of these world are same.
Everyone can pay those things ,if they work and be smart .
“But will it take water?” say Mercedes with her smart ass.
“Took mine to Alley Pond Park once,” say Flyboy. “String broke. Lost it. Pity.”
“Sailed mine in Gentral Park and it keeled over and sank. Had to ask my father for another dollar.”
“And you got the strap,” laugh Big Butt. “The jerk didn’t even have a string on it. My old man wailed on his behind.”
Little Q.T. was staring hard at the sailboat and you could see he wanted it bad. But he too little and somebody’d just take it from him. So what the hell. “This boat for kids, Miss Moore?”
“Parents silly to buy something like that just to get all broke up,” say Rosie Giraffe. “That much money it should last forever,” I figure.
I think the parent is broke up a lot
“My father’d buy it for me if I wanted it.”
“Your father, my ass,” say Rosie Giraffe getting a chance to finally push Mercedes. “Must be rich people shop here,” say Q.T.
This line in the article shows that the world the kids lived in,you needed money in order to get the things you needed or wanted
“You are a very bright boy,” say Flyboy. “What was your first clue?” And he rap him on the head with the back of his knuckles, since Q.T. the only one he could get away with. Though Q.T. liable to come up behind you years later and get his licks in when you half expect it.
“What I want to know is,” I says to Miss Moore though I never talk to her, I wouldn’t give the bitch that satisfaction, “is how much a real boat costs? I figure a thousand’d get you a yacht any day.”
“Why don’t you check that out,” she says, “and report back to the group?” Which really pains my ass. If you gonna mess up a perfectly good swim day least you could do is have some answers. “Let’s go in,” she say like she got something up her sleeve. Only she don’t lead the way. So me and Sugar turn the corner to where the entrance is, but when we get there I kinda hang back. Not that I’m scared, what’s there to be afraid of, just a toy store. But I feel funny, shame. But what I got to be shamed about? Got as much right to go in as anybody. But somehow I can’t seem to get hold of the door, so I step away from Sugar to lead. But she hangs back too. And I look at her and she looks at me and this is ridiculous. I mean, damn, I have never ever been shy about doing nothing or going nowhere. But then Mercedes steps up and then Rosie Giraffe and Big Butt crowd in behind and shove, and next thing we all stuffed into the doorway with only Mercedes squeezing past us, smoothing out her jumper and walking right down the aisle. Then the rest of us tumble in like a glued-together jigsaw done all wrong. And people lookin at us. And it’s like the time me and Sugar crashed into the Catholic church on a dare. But once we got in there and everything so hushed and holy and the candles and the bowin and the handkerchiefs on all the drooping heads, I just couldn’t go through with the plan. Which was for me to run up to the altar and do a tap dance while Sugar played the nose flute and messed around in the holy water. And Sugar kept givin me the elbow. Then later teased me so bad I tied her up in the shower and turned it on and locked her in. And she’d be there till this day if Aunt Gretchen hadn’t finally figured I was lyin about the boarder takin a shower.
Same thing in the store. We all walkin on tiptoe and hardly touchin the games and puzzles and things. And I watched Miss Moore who is steady watchin us like she waitin for a sign. Like Mama Drewery watches the sky and sniffs the air and takes note of just how much slant is in the bird for-mation. Then me and Sugar bump smack into each other, so busy gazing at the toys, ‘specially the sailboat. But we don’t laugh and go into our fat-lady bump-stomach routine. We just stare at that price tag. Then Sugar run a finger over the whole boat. And I’m jealous and want to hit her. Maybe not her, but I sure want to punch somebody in the mouth.
“Watcha bring us here for, Miss Moore?”
“You sound angry, Sylvia. Are you mad about something?” Givin me one of them grins like she tellin a grown-up joke that never turns out to be funny. And she’s lookin very closely at me like maybe she plannin to do my portrait from memory. I’m mad, but I won’t give her that satisfaction. So I slouch around the store bein very bored and say, “Let’s go.”
Me and Sugar at the back of the train watchin the tracks whizzin by large then small then gettin gobbled up in the dark. I’m thinkin about this tricky toy I saw in the store. A clown that somersaults on a bar then does chin-ups just cause you yank lightly at his leg. Cost $35. I could see me askin my mother for a $35 birthday clown. “You wanna who that costs what?” she’d say, cocking her head to the side to get a better view of the hole in my head. Thirty-five dollars could buy new bunk beds for Junior and Gretchen’s boy. Thirty-five dollars and the whole household could go visit Grand-daddy Nelson in the country. Thirty-five dollars would pay for the rent and the piano bill too. Who are these people that spend that much for performing clowns and $1000 for toy sailboats? What kinda work they do and how they live and how come we ain’t in on it? Where we are is who we are, Miss Moore always pointin out. But it don’t necessarily have to be that way, she always adds then waits for somebody to say that poor people have to wake up and demand their share of the pie and don’t none of us know what kind of pie she talking about in the first damn place. But she ain’t so smart cause I still got her four dollars from the taxi and she sure ain’t gettin it Messin up my day with this shit. Sugar nudges me in my pocket and winks.
This paragraph is talking about money distribution depending the social group in this cases the low-income family management or priorities with their money.
This fact are so real even in today society.
$35 dollars on a clown toy is kinda crazy because its just a toy, with that choice you should buy food or things you need to survive of
Miss Moore lines us up in front of the mailbox where we started from, seem like years ago, and I got a headache for thinkin so hard. And we lean all over each other so we can hold up under the draggy ass lecture she always finishes us off with at the end before we thank her for borin us to tears. But she just looks at us like she readin tea leaves. Finally she say, “Well, what did you think of F.A.0. Schwarz?”
Rosie Giraffe mumbles, “White folks crazy.”
“I’d like to go there again when I get my birthday money,” says Mercedes, and we shove her out the pack so she has to lean on the mailbox by herself.
“I’d like a shower. Tiring day,” say Flyboy.
Then Sugar surprises me by sayin, “You know, Miss Moore, I don’t think all of us here put together eat in a year what that sailboat costs.” And Miss Moore lights up like somebody goosed her. “And?” she say, urging Sugar on. Only I’m standin on her foot so she don’t continue.
“Imagine for a minute what kind of society it is in which some people can spend on a toy what it would cost to feed a family of six or seven. What do you think?”
I think, this line is one of the most reflecting one because, explain the different between social society and the real conflicts that affect the poor people especially.
“I think,” say Sugar pushing me off her feet like she never done before cause I whip her ass in a minute, “that this is not much of a democracy if you ask me. Equal chance to pursue happiness means an equal crack at the dough, don’t it?” Miss Moore is besides herself and I am disgusted with Sugar’s treachery. So I stand on her foot one more time to see if she’ll shove me. She shuts up, and Miss Moore looks at me, sorrowfully I’m thinkin. And somethin weird is goin on, I can feel it in my chest. “Any-body else learn anything today?” lookin dead at me. I walk away and Sugar has to run to catch up and don’t even seem to notice when I shrug her arm off my shoulder.
The government is the cause of such differences between racial equality.
She felt betrayed by Sugar because at first they were resisting Ms. Moore and then Sugar started getting the reason why they went on a trip/
“Well, we got four dollars anyway,” she says. “Uh hun.”
“We could go to Hascombs and get half a chocolate layer and then go to the Sunset and still have plenty money for potato chips and ice cream sodas.”
“Uh hun.”
“Race you to Hascombs,” she say.
We start down the block and she gets ahead which is O.K. by me cause I’m going to the West End and then over to the Drive to think this day through. She can run if she want to and even run faster. But ain’t nobody gonna beat me at nuthin.
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