Born a Crime

townships, waiting for public
transport. We were black people
who were out in the world. We were
black people who could wake up
and say, “Where do we choose to go
today?” On the commute to work
and school, there was a long stretch
of the road into town that was
completely deserted. That’s where
Mom would let me drive. On the
highway. I was six. She’d put me on
her lap and let me steer and work
the indicators while she worked the
pedals and the stick shift. After a
few months of that, she taught me
how to work the stick. She was still
working the clutch, but I’d climb