Laughing Teenagers: Conquering Oppression
Short Story
Barbara Dell Hobbs
Laughter is the best medicine, I frequently hear some folks say. I
can attest to the fact that laughter was our best medicine as
teenagers, which helped us to face tough times growing up in a small town
between Waco and Dallas, Texas. To help keep our families and ourselves
above the below poverty level, we as teenagers were obligated to go out
and chop cotton during the month of June. We had to pick cotton from
the latter part of July to the middle of October. For me, there was
nothing at all hilarious about picking cotton. So, in this story, I choose
to provide an epitome of how we as teenagers survived cotton chopping
on a typical summer day.
It was on a Monday morning in the first week of June 1956. Our
parents and/or grandparents woke us up around 5:30 a.m. We had to clean up
our houses, wash our faces and hands, eat a hot breakfast (oatmeal
or grits, deep fried dry salt bacon and hot biscuits), put on our long
sleeve shirts or blouses, blue jeans, working shoes and summer hats and
go stand outside about 6:30 a.m. with our lunch pails in our hands. We
had to wait for Mr. Grover to come and pick us up in his faded-red
pickup truck to take us to the cotton field, which was located about 20
miles out on the outskirts of town.
Dreadfully, one by one we got on the truck, and Mr. Grover stopped by
a little brick-sided house to pick up a man wearing faded blue
overalls, a long sleeve brown khaki shirt, a felt hat and brocades (men's
tough-skin shoes). The man's name was Emmit and he was about 35. He got
on the truck with a big smile on his face. However, he would not speak
or have anything to say to us teenagers as Mr. Grover drove us to the
cotton field.
When we arrived at the dreadful cotton field where the dew was still
on the grass, Mr. Grover had us to get off the truck and line up. One
by one, he issued us a hoe and assigned each one of us to a row,
separating the boys from us teenage girls. Unlike us teenagers, Emmit
enthusiastically grabbed his hoe and immediately went going down his assigned
row chopping cotton. This is a hard-working man [referring to Emmit], I
thought to myself.
We had one humorous teenager in the crowd whose name was Herman, 17,
the oldest amongst us and a senior in high school. He was always trying
to say something to lift our spirits and keep them up I supposed!
For example, when he looked over and saw that Emmit had chopped down
all the cotton on his (Emmit's) row, Herman humorously said:
Hey y'll, look at what this fool Emmit is doing! He's chopping down
all this white man's cotton! And look at him. He's way down yonder justa
swinging that hoe and probably chopping down all that white man's
cotton!
We silly teenagers burst out and started laughing. I personally
laughed so hard till my eyes were watery. Then we heard somebody yelling at
us:
Awright, y'll! Mr. Grover yelled. What's so funny? What y'll
laughing bout? Cut out all that yack-de-yack and let the hammer down
(meaning the hoe down)!
Then ole crazy Herman hollered back:
And don't y'll talk back! He humorously said.
And I mean don't talk back! Mr. Grover yelled.
We refrained from laughing loudly and started sniggling, so Mr. Grover
couldn't hear us. Next thing we knew Mr. Grover had walked up behind
us with his wearing his big cowboy hat and a black pipe hanging out of
his mouth. The truth of the matter is that he made us nervous, for he
was checking to make sure we were chopping cotton correctly. So, he
followed behind us for about 30 minutes. And we were very much relieved
when he left us alone and went to check on the rows that Emmit had been
working on.
Uh ooh y'll! Herman said humorously. Mr. Grover is gonna get Emmit
for chopping down all that white man's cotton!
We started laughing again, but we kept our voices down as we did not
want Mr. Grover to stop our fun. We looked up and sure enough Mr. Grover
was talking to Emmit and shaking his finger at the poor little
seemingly deranged man. But Emmit kept on swinging his hoe and chopping cotton
as Mr. Grover walked behind him.
Then we heard some footsteps and when we looked around, there was a
white man wearing dark shades, dressed in a big straw cowboy hat, a short
sleeve white shirt and brown khaki pants. His name was Mr. Paul, and
he was carrying a big bucket of ice water in one hand and a dipper in
the other hand. We teenagers remained very quiet and humble as Mr. Paul
fetched each of us two dippers of water. For we noticed that Mr.
Paul wasn't wearing a smile at all. That caused us to feel even more
intimidated. In other words, we were scared of Mr. Paul because he was a
white man whom we were working for.
We were very much relieved when Mr. Paul walked away from us and went
on down the field to fetch Emmit some water.
O, lawdy hamn mercy y'll, silly Herman jokingly said. Mr. Paul is
gonna chew Emmit out for chopping down his cotton!
After Herman said this, we chuckled instead of laughing out aloud. We
didn't want Mr. Paul to be harsh toward poor Emmit. Unfortunately, we
had heard many horrifying stories about how the white man used to lynch
the black men in the south. I remember when my grandmother took us out
in the country one day and showed us where some white men had hung an
innocent black man from a big black tree. So, even though Emmit caused
us to laugh a lot, we still had compassion for him when he had to face
Mr. Paul.
Mr. Paul fetched Emmit a dip of water. Then he stood there shaking his
finger in Emmit's face, while the latter was drinking his water. Then
Mr. Paul walked away.
The temperature began to rise to approximately 90 degrees, and sweat
was rolling off our faces.
Ahhhhhhhhhh let the hammer down young folks! Mr. Grover cheerfully
said. Now this is what I like to see. Y'll acting quiet and lettin'
the hammer down!
I looked up at Etta Mae, 16, a high-school senior and the oldest
teenage girl in the group. She worked on a row between her little sister
Leola and me, so she could help us to keep up with the flow. Etta Mae was
sweating a great deal and she had an unhappy look on her face.
Hey, Mr. Grover! Etta Mae harshly said. We're hungry! This sun is
burning us up! We need to sit under the big shade tree, eat some lunch
and rest till it cools off this afternoon.
Now, Etta Mae, honey child, Mr. Grover gently replied. I can't let
y'll eat your lunch till the boss man [referring to Mr. Paul] tells me
to do so.
Etta Mae reached into her pocket and pulled out a big red rag. Hey,
Mr. Paul! she waved her big red rag and yelled. We're burning up out
here! We're hungry! We need to eat lunch and take our rest under a
big shade tree!
We teenagers burst out and started laughing. We were happy that Etta
Mae was speaking out on our behalf as we were hungry and the hot sun was
all but unbearable.
Hey, Etta Mae! Herman abruptly said. You don't be hollering at that
white man that way! Y'll get us all fired. So shut up your big mouth!
I ain't thinking about you, Herman! Etta Mae angrily responded.
You go hug a wet dog in the ---!
Awright! Awright! Awright! Mr. Grover anxiously said. Herman, you
and Etta Mae stop it now! I'm in charge! Y'll ought to be ashamed.
Herman, you suppose to be setting an example for de boys. And Etta
Mae you suppose to be setting an example for de girls. So, I don't want to
hear another word out of you! Y'll hear me Herman and Etta Mae!
Yes sir, Mr. Grover. Both Herman and Etta Mae simultaneously
replied.
Big crocodile tears rolled down Etta Mae's face. My eyes were full of
tears because I felt sorry for her. Herman neither Mr. Grover had no
business talking to her that way. I thought to myself.
Everything got quiet and we continued to chop cotton in the smoldering
sun anxiously waiting for Mr. Paul, the boss man, to tell us to quit
for lunch and sit under the big shade tree.
About 15 minutes later, Mr. Paul yelled for us to drop our hoes and
quit for lunch. Boy, weren't we glad to hear that! Mr. Grover walked up
and said:
Hey, wait a minute y'll. I got somethin I wanta say for y'll start
eating lunch. Herman, I want you and de boys to sit on one side of the
shade tree, and Etta Mae I want you and the girls to sit on the other
side of the shade tree. Me and Emmit will sit together. And Herman and
Etta Mae I don't want to hear a word out of neither one of you. And I
don't want y'll laughing and talking about Emmit chopping down Mr. Paul's cotton. Awright!
Yes sir, we teenagers replied, as we happily proceeded to the big
shade tree to eat our lunch.
We ate our lunch, and everything was rather quiet. Etta Mae sat there
acting like our protective mother. She shared some of her food with
us, and we gladly gave her some of our potato chips and vanilla wafer
cookies. We finished eating and fell asleep. Then we heard somebody say
in a loud voice:
Awright! Nap time is up! The person said. It's time to get up and
get back to work and let the hammer down!
Mr. Grover, it is still too hot for us to be out there chopping
cotton. Etta Mae said as she was stretching and yawning.
Now Etta Mae, you know I can't do nothing about that. Mr. Grover
gently said. I got to do what the boss man, Mr. Paul, tells me to do. So
y'll go on back out der and let the hammer down!
It was approximately 2 p.m., and we dragged our feet as we were
approaching the area where we stopped chopping cotton around 12 noon. As we
were walking down the field, one silly teenage boy hollered out:
Whoooooh, y'll, look at all this white man's cotton that Emmit has
chopped down.
We teenagers burst out and started laughing! To our surprise, Emmit
picked up a gigantic rock and angrily yelled:
Y'll see dis here rock? If you laugh at me one mo time, I gonna take
this rock and beat de hell out of ever lass one of y'll!
We got scared and stopped laughing immediately. Word had gotten around
that Emmit had just been released from the insane asylum in Terrell,
Texas two days earlier. So, we figured that he might be crazy enough to
beat us all up with the rock just as he said he would do.
As time moved on and everything was getting rather quiet and boring,
Etta Mae started singing: We need you badly Jesus won't you come by
here. We need you badly Jesus won't you come by here. We need you badly
Jesus won't you come by here. O! Lord, come by here. The rest of us
girls and Herman and the boys all joined Etta Mae and started singing:
We need you badly Jesus won't you come by here. We need you badly Jesus
won't you come by here! We need you badly Jesus won't you come here!
O, Lord, come by here!
We looked up and there stood Mr. Paul with a big bucket of water in one
hand and a dipper in the other hand. He fetched each one of us a
dipper of water, which was not at all ice cold and it (the water) tasted
rather bitter. When Etta Mae started drinking her water, she spat it out
and put down her hoe.
Hey you girls, I have to go use the rest room. Y'll keep my row up
till I get back. Awright.
We continued to chop our rows as Etta Mae told us to do, and then we
heard some loud voices. We looked down the field and Mr. Paul and Etta
Mae were going after each other's throat, which made us girls feel
scared for Etta Mae.
Why is he bothering Etta Mae? We anxiously said.
When Etta Mae came back and resumed chopping cotton, she was fuming!
We looked up at Mr. Paul and he was also very angry!
Grover, you better do something with this gal Etta Mae! Mr. Paul
anxiously said. She went into my truck and stole my ice water.
I didn't steal a darn thang from you, man! Etta Mae angrily said.
You were supposed to be giving all of us some nice clean ice cold water
like the kind you had in your truck and you didn't do it! Instead, you
gave us that ole nasty tasting water without any ice in it. You must
have gotten that old nasty water from the pond. So, I ain't stole a
darn thing from you!
Etta Mae, Etta Mae, Etta Mae! Mr. Grover firmly said. Now just
cool down! Ain't no need fo all dis here fussin! Let me talk to Mr.
Paul!
Mr. Grover, this white man is taking advantage of us. Etta Mae said
as she began to cry. He shook his finger in Emmit's face this morning
and he (Mr. Paul) gave us that ole nasty tasting water to drink. Then
he kept us working out in the hot sun before lunch time just out of
sheer spite. He is mad because Emmit is chopping down all of his cotton.
I ain't taking anymore stuff off Mr. Paul!
We girls began to cry vociferously, and Herman walked over to Etta Mae
and politely touched her on the shoulder.
Etta Mae, Herman softly said. Don't worry about a thing. Let Mr.
Grover and I take care of Mr. Paul. Okay. Don't get yourself into
trouble and go to prison for hitting a white man. So cool it! It is gonna
to be all right. Okay good looking! So dry those big pretty eyes and
get your fine self back to work!
Etta Mae blushed and began to cheer up as her counterpart Herman spoke
such smoothing words into her ears. Then she led the boys and girls in
a song:
I need you badly Jesus won't you come by here. I need you badly Jesus
won't you come by here. I need you badly Jesus won't you come by here.
O, Lord, come by here!
Etta Mae stopped singing, and so did the rest of us teenagers. Then
she burst out in a loud voice saying: I'll be glad when I graduate from
high school so I can get out of this cotton field. Yeses! Yeses!
Yeses! I'll be glad when I graduate from high school so I can get out of this
cotton field. Yeses! Yeses! Yeses!
Then the rest of us teenage girls started yelling: I'll be glad when I
graduate from high school, so I can get out of the cotton field.
Yeses! Yeses! Yeses!
Herman and the boys join us hollering: I'll be glad when I graduate
from high school, so I can get out of the cotton field. Yeses! Yeses!
Yeses!
And then Mr. Grover yelled: I'll be glad when quitting time comes so I
can take y'll home to yo mamas and papas and yo grand mamas and yo
grand papas! Yeses! Yeses! Yeses!
Emmit started laughing and jumping up and down saying: Yeses! Yeses!
Yeses! Yeses! Yeses! Yeses! Yeses!
We all burst out in a big laughter!
Laughing Teenagers: Conquering Oppression© COPYRIGHT 2005 Barbara Dell Hobbs.
Reproduction prohibited without permission from the author.
10/24/05
