Bone, Thugs & Middle School

Another Tale from the "Sub" Vault

As I sat scribbling out my usual “sub notes” for the teacher for whom I was substituting, I struggled to explain a peculiar yet telling episode I had with a couple of her students. Earlier that day, Xavier (not his real name of course – when is it ever?) showed me with embarrassed pride the red bandana he had carefully folded into a perfect square and buried deep in the front pocket of his slung way-too-low trousers. Johnny explained how he and classmate Calvin (you guessed it, not his real name either), who carried a blue bandana in the same manner, carried said bandanas as a symbol of their solidarity, if not outright affiliation, with well-known L.A. gangs.

Well, at least they were being honest – right? To self-identify as “gangstas” seems brash, even a little foolish; but coming from the mouths of otherwise bright, well-adjusted 12-year old middle-schoolers the words sounded more like declarations of confidence and self-assurance than thuggish bragging. I didn’t think their statements all that outlandish for 12-year old boys, who, after all, seek merely to discover who they are and how they fit in.

So was I overly troubled by this revelation of nascent gang behavior in an otherwise benign middle school environment? Well, not really. I did not consider for even a moment to take them at their word that they were gang members. Jaundiced as it might be, my compartmented world-view does not have room for seventh grade gang bangers, especially the sort that may be prowling the scrubbed, white-bread halls of suburban Columbia County, Georgia. Even less so since, with one boy sporting the blue “Crips” bandana and the other flashing the red bandana of the rival “Bloods”, they seemed surprisingly chummy for the blood-oath, sworn-to-the-death rivals their gang signs advertised them to be.

The bandana seems an oddly appropriate choice for gangbangers to carry as their “sign”. Bandanas have a long association with dangerous characters and their nefarious dealings. The bandana is a frequent accessory to the popular image of tough guys ranging from biker thugs and pirates to bank-robbers and gunslingers of the Old West. Commonplace in the imagination are the “black hat” cowboys sporting their sweaty bandanas about their necks as they snarl at the preachy do-gooders and pale, timid city folk (or for that matter, the revenuers, as in the case of “Outlaw” country groaner Willie Nelson). Rarely, if ever, is the bandana put to use in its original and now quaint purpose; as a handkerchief. Imagine a seventh grade boy blowing his nose in a “hanky”!

Still, I had to dismiss the feigned villainy of these boys and their bandana-flagged gang affiliation as a sincere attempt to look “bad” while not actually being bad. I wanted to think they were more anxious to be seen (and therefore, see themselves) as “dangerous” in a way that authenticates their individuality and boosts their self-image. I did the same as a kid growing up in small-town Kansas in the 70’s, “experimenting” with cigarettes or sharing a freshly-swiped can of luke-warm beer with one of my friends. Recalling the relative innocence of those days, I was not the least bit concerned these kids were serious gang members or posed any threat to themselves or others, and that’s what I wrote in my note to the teacher.

Several weeks later and I found myself reading a brief article in the morning paper about the arrest of a local middle school teen. He was booked and facing criminal prosecution for threatening violence, carrying a concealed weapon on school property and participating in gang-related activity on school grounds. Among the items discovered by the police officer who frisked the boy were a switchblade knife - and a bandana. The article didn’t mention the color of the bandana or the name of the school. I wonder if I should write a second note to the teacher.