Take Back the Block

I spent the morning of my eleventh birthday carrying a sign that read WE WERE HERE FIRST!
There are so many other things I could have been doing on my birthday, but there I was, the only kid, as usual. I had no chance of blending in with the sea of old ladies. Mom didn’t like me calling the ladies old, but they were old.
I walked a few steps back from everyone, ducking behind my sign as cars sped by. No way was I going to be spotted by some kids from my school. We were out for the summer, but I couldn’t be too careful.
It was a thousand degrees outside, and my favorite Carolina Tar Heels blue T-shirt was sticky and clung to my chest. It didn’t even match my Nike Air Max anymore. My kicks were now dusty and barely blue. That was my fault, though; I never should have worn my good stuff to trample through dirt.
“Wes, hold the sign up straight and uncover your face,” Mom said.
“Come on, Mom, it’s hot and I’m thirsty.”
“Don’t backtalk me!”
I knew better than to talk back, but it was too hot for manners. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and swallowed a glob of spit to wet my throat.
It didn’t help.
This was the third march this month, all part of a monthlong protest. The third Saturday I was here instead of playing NBA 2K with Brent and Alyssa. This week’s protest was the largest so far. Thirty of us stepped over bricks and construction trash, chanting, “Stop tenant replacement!” Which didn’t make much sense, because there were no tenants left to replace.
I got why we were there, but I was a little tired of fighting battles that didn’t have anything to do with me, though Mom thinks we belong in the middle of every fight.
This month, we were fighting the development of a new condo building twenty stories, dark gray tinted glass, space beneath for shops, and even a video game lounge.
I wasn’t sure what the big deal was-I thought it sounded pretty cool. The apartment buildings on this street were old and beat-up. New stores would be nice. I didn’t say that out loud, though, or I would have had to suffer through at least thirty minutes of enlightenment on history and heritage. Mom always has a speech ready.