Karen blames me for her son's failing grades, but years later she begs me to tutor her son.

Here's what happened.

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Some context first. I live in a seaside. bell for notifications.

Some context first.

I live in a seaside resort where the majority of the population is white, conservative, and

quite well off.

This story takes place while I was still in primary school, so I think I was around 8 or 9 years old.

Not exactly sure. The primary school I went to basically everyone knew each other,

and most of the parents were friends leading to the creation of a sort of community.

My parents and I were labeled as outcasts, and while they tried to be friendly with us,

we weren't invited to parties, barbecues, or even birthdays.

Now, what did we do to deserve such treatment?

Well, uh, exist, I guess.

They never gave us any real reason, but I think it was a mix of me being black, my mother

not quite fitting into the lovely soccer mom archetype, and my dad's past.

He's from that town and used to hang out with metalheads when he was younger

before basically disappearing for several years to travel around the world.

Anyway, at that time I had averaged a good grades, but was often reprimanded by teachers because I was talking with my classmates during our lessons,

especially with my best friend at the time, that we'll call F for the rest of the story.

The other parents did not like us very much, but F's mother, the entitled

mother of the story, took it to a whole other level. She absolutely hated our guts.

...