-Which word? . . . . Oh. I didn't realize that had come on.
-It's a bad word, right, Papa?
-Well. Yes. It is. But there are times, boy. . . . There are times when it's okay. Okay, or even more. Okay or even right to say a word like that.
-Is this one of them, Papa?
-For her, boy. It is. It was.
-Who is her, Papa?
-Oh. Right. Of course you don't know. Her name was Nina Simone.
-Simone? That's my Auntie Simone singing?
-No, boy. It isn't. It's a different Simone. Your auntie may have been named for her, but your auntie wouldn't say that word, okay?
-She wouldn't, Papa?
-No. She wouldn't. And you shouldn't either. Don't repeat it. Okay, boy? It's not okay.
-But it's okay for her? The other Simone?
-Nina. Yes. It's okay for her. She . . . I don't know. Meant it. And she deserved it. And she earned it.
-Why?
-Why what, boy?
-Why did she mean it? How did she earn it?
-Well. Things were . . . bad, boy. Very bad. When she wrote the song, I mean. When she first sang those words. When she kept singing those words. They were in response to some very bad things.
-How, Papa? How were they bad?
-I don't know, boy. Don't ask me that. They were . . . just . . . bad.
-How, Papa? Why won't you tell me?
-Okay, boy. Listen. Out there? Outside of this house? Sometimes, some people don't like other people. And that happens for stupid reasons. Many stupid reasons. For the stupidest of reasons. And this has happened for a very long time. In this country. Around the world. And it keeps happening. And it will keep happening. People not liking other people for the stupidest reasons. And because of it, some people treat other people badly. Very badly. They hurt them. For no reason, they hurt them. And worse. It is not earned when that happens. But it is meant. Very much so, it is meant. But I need you to understand, boy. It isn't earned. It isn't deserved.
-I know, Papa. I hear things. I hear you and Mummy talking sometimes when you don't know it.
-Lord. I suppose you do, boy.
-But that was a long time ago, right, Papa?
-When she sang this song? Yeah. Yes. It was.
-In the past then, Papa?
-In the past? What do you mean, boy?
-That these things are in the past. That things are better. Now, they're better? Better than when she sang?
-Hmmm. Well, yes. I suppose they are sometimes. Better, I mean. But like I was telling you, these things aren't only in the past. Aren't only in the song she's singing. They're here. They remain with us. Different, perhaps. At least some of the time. But too often the same.
* * * *
-Do you know what I am saying, boy? About the past?
-No. I don't, Papa.
-Well. Okay. Let's try this. A very smart man, a writer, once said that the past isn't dead, like some people say. He said that the past isn't even past yet.
-That doesn't make any sense, Papa.
-No. I suppose it doesn't. But I'm trying to tell you something, boy. Something important. The past. Ghosts. They are all around us. And they haunt us still. And they are dangerous. They can hurt you, boy. Don't listen when people tell you ghosts aren't real. They are. And it destroys me that I can't keep them from you. And it destroys me that I have to tell you this. But I do. I have to.
-Who is her, Papa?
-Oh. Right. Of course you don't know. Her name was Nina Simone.
-Simone? That's my Auntie Simone singing?
-No, boy. It isn't. It's a different Simone. Your auntie may have been named for her, but your auntie wouldn't say that word, okay?
-She wouldn't, Papa?
-No. She wouldn't. And you shouldn't either. Don't repeat it. Okay, boy? It's not okay.
-But it's okay for her? The other Simone?
-Nina. Yes. It's okay for her. She . . . I don't know. Meant it. And she deserved it. And she earned it.
-Why?
-Why what, boy?
-Why did she mean it? How did she earn it?
-Well. Things were . . . bad, boy. Very bad. When she wrote the song, I mean. When she first sang those words. When she kept singing those words. They were in response to some very bad things.
-How, Papa? How were they bad?
-I don't know, boy. Don't ask me that. They were . . . just . . . bad.
-How, Papa? Why won't you tell me?
-Okay, boy. Listen. Out there? Outside of this house? Sometimes, some people don't like other people. And that happens for stupid reasons. Many stupid reasons. For the stupidest of reasons. And this has happened for a very long time. In this country. Around the world. And it keeps happening. And it will keep happening. People not liking other people for the stupidest reasons. And because of it, some people treat other people badly. Very badly. They hurt them. For no reason, they hurt them. And worse. It is not earned when that happens. But it is meant. Very much so, it is meant. But I need you to understand, boy. It isn't earned. It isn't deserved.
-I know, Papa. I hear things. I hear you and Mummy talking sometimes when you don't know it.
-Lord. I suppose you do, boy.
-But that was a long time ago, right, Papa?
-When she sang this song? Yeah. Yes. It was.
-In the past then, Papa?
-In the past? What do you mean, boy?
-That these things are in the past. That things are better. Now, they're better? Better than when she sang?
-Hmmm. Well, yes. I suppose they are sometimes. Better, I mean. But like I was telling you, these things aren't only in the past. Aren't only in the song she's singing. They're here. They remain with us. Different, perhaps. At least some of the time. But too often the same.
* * * *
-Do you know what I am saying, boy? About the past?
-No. I don't, Papa.
-Well. Okay. Let's try this. A very smart man, a writer, once said that the past isn't dead, like some people say. He said that the past isn't even past yet.
-That doesn't make any sense, Papa.
-No. I suppose it doesn't. But I'm trying to tell you something, boy. Something important. The past. Ghosts. They are all around us. And they haunt us still. And they are dangerous. They can hurt you, boy. Don't listen when people tell you ghosts aren't real. They are. And it destroys me that I can't keep them from you. And it destroys me that I have to tell you this. But I do. I have to.
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