If you missed the first 6 parts of this series click on the links below:
In the calm that
followed the peaceful Revolutionary People’s Constitutional Convention, life seemed
to return to normal in Upper Holmesburg and I made a friend. “So, what kind of cigarettes are you going to
smoke when you grow up?” I asked Dolores as we sat on the concrete steps in
front of my parents’ house, having fun with cigarette candy. Dolores lived on the same block. She started talking to me one day out of the
blue. That was the day after cops had come to our house because Dad was hitting
my brother and I guess she felt bad for me.
It turned out we liked each other.
Dolores didn’t care that the other kids on the block made fun of me and
my family. She wouldn’t join in on
that. She stood up for me, too.
My pack was labeled
Winston. The white sugary sticks came in
a pack just like the real thing, with a red tip to resemble the lit end. Instead of inhaling, you blew and the force
of your breath released a cloud of powdered sugar that looked like tobacco
smoke. “Tareyton, I think,” Dolores
said, “because I’d rather fight than switch!”
We burst out laughing. “What kind
will you smoke?” she asked.
“Virginia Slims, of
course” I replied, “We’ve come a long way, baby!” Dolores giggled and we sang the Virginia
Slims jingle in unison:
You’ve come a long way, baby
To get where you’ve got to today
You’ve got your own cigarette now, baby
You’ve come a long, long way!
Candy cigarettes were
the tobacco companies’ way of brainwashing little kids into thinking smoking
was cool. After the women’s movement started
in the late 1960s they came out with Virginia Slims to get women to smoke more.**
Tom, the soldier I had
been writing letters to, came home from the war safe and sound. It so happened that his family lived in
Philadelphia, too. My mother invited him
to visit. I still remember how excited I
was when he showed up at the house to see me for the first time. Mom opened the door because I was too
shy. “Hello, Mrs. Reeves,” he said, “I’m
Tom.” He was a tall, good-looking young
man with light brown hair. I smiled as
he stood in the doorway, exchanging polite greetings with my mother. He said, “I really appreciate your little
girl writing me those letters, Mrs. Reeves. Those letters got me through some
tough times.”
Mom invited him in and
that’s when he noticed I had been standing there quietly all the while. I blurted out, “Tom, it’s me.”
He smiled. “Little flower?” I ran up to him and gave him a hug. That was a great day. In the Fall I started sixth grade at St.
Dominic and Mom caught a really bad cold.
She asked me to go to Shelley’s Pharmacy to get her prescription
filled. The store had done good business
over the years and had become very busy.
Shelley remarked from time to time that he was going to hire another
pharmacist to help him dispense prescriptions.
Unbeknownst to me, he finally did.
When I walked to the pharmacy counter at the back of the store, I got
quite a surprise. There, wearing a white
lab coat and filling prescriptions, was a black female pharmacist. She was young and pretty, with a petite
figure and her hair done in a stylish mini-afro. Before I even got to the counter, I stopped
and stared at her for fear she was a figment of my imagination. A woman pharmacist! This was great news for me, because I was
going to be a woman soon and I planned on having a career. Here was proof positive that doors were
opening for all of the people who have been put down and kept down.
I stepped gingerly
toward the counter and handed her Mom’s prescription. “Thank you,” she said, “It’ll be ready soon,”
as if it was an ordinary circumstance on any ordinary day. Suddenly, a man waiting in line called her
the “N” word. It was jarring and I just
stood there, speechless. The poor woman
looked up, but then tried to ignore it while she continued doing her job. To my astonishment, he said it again a moment
later and my blood got hot. I knew what it
was like to be bullied. I knew what it was
like to be called names just for being different. I just couldn’t quietly stand by when it was happening
to someone else. I defended her and he
began to argue with me. “You must be
some kind of foreigner if you’re on their side!” he said, as if sticking up for
black people was somehow un-American.
Shelley had been working
in the back of the pharmacy section, among the shelves of pills. Having heard the commotion, he
intervened. Before he could ask what was
the matter the man uttered the racial slur again. Shelley replied that he would not tolerate
the abuse of his employee, nor the use of the “N” word in his store. Then he told the man to get his prescription
filled elsewhere and promptly threw him out.
When I got home, Mom was
at the kitchen table reading the Philadelphia Bulletin. I told Mom all about it.
Mom said she was proud of me for sticking
up for the woman. “A black female pharmacist,”
I said,”Mom, do you know what this means?”
Mom replied, “Tell me.”
I tore up the Help Wanted – Male section of the
Philadelphia Bulletin and said, “It means I can be anything I want to be.”
**Virginia Slims is a brand of cigarette manufactured by Altria
Group (formerly Phillip Morris Companies). The brand was introduced in 1968 and
marketed to young professional women using the slogan "You've come a long
way, baby." Some media watch groups considered this campaign to be
responsible for a rapid increase in smoking among teenage girls. Later
campaigns have used the slogans, "It's a woman thing," in the 1990s,
and "Find your voice." A report by the Surgeon General of the United
States has interpreted these marketing strategies as attempting to link
smoking "to women's freedom, emancipation, and empowerment."[1]
This report also tied the increase of smoking among teenage girls to rises in
sales of Virginia Slims and other "niche" brands marketed directly to
women. Source: Wikipedia
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