PAGE 10

HIGH GEAR

WE DEALT WITH LIFE IN DIFFERENT WAYS

A segment from The Sun Rises, attention.

at Midnight, an unpublished novel by George Brown

Would it have been better to take lessons from Robbie Jenkins, the tall and slender When do the scratches turn Negro boy in my same grade but into wounds? in different classes? Robbie, "He's not rough and tough who was of dark hue with like other boys!"

"He acts just like a girl!" "Sissy! ... SISSY!”

These things don't actually maim a small child, although they hurt. At what point does the maiming, the splattering of much psychic blood, begin?

prominent African features, camped it up, got away with it in his fashion, and most important of all, never seemed to suffer? He swished all over school, attracted a lot of attention and was usually in some sort of trouble, which didn't seem to distress him, in the dean's or the principal's office.

I knew Robbie slightly as he ate at the table next to mine in the cafeteria. He treated anyone courteously who was courteous to him. We spoke occasionally, and he seemed quietly to regard me as the kin that I was. While I chafed and suffered under the name calling, Robbie gave back as much as the tormentors dished out.

By the time of junior high school, school had become unbearable. Because of the pitch of my voice, my walk, and my general manner I was the SISSY in capital letters, sometimes the CROSS-EYED SISSY, and many tormentors let me know this daily, even hourly if the opportunity presented itself. I I hated school and did "C" work with a high rate of absence. When I was absent, I usually chose the days when there was gym because I couldn't perform well in gym and as a result was the butt of much derision. There were some tormentors who would have turned me into the court jester, but I fought this strongly. Somewhat extrovertish up to this point, I now began to turn inward. Why talk, act, do, when it got you into trouble? Better to do nothing to attract "colored" were the accepted

NGIF

"Girlie!" someone would yell as Robbie literally pranced down the hall in trousers tightly cinched at the waist and in a sport shirt that he managed to make look like a girl's blouse.

"Shit face!" Robbie might call back, lifting his head all the higher.

Many of his tormentors were Negroes themselves, and in the mid-Forties "Negro" and

National Gay Task Force

America's Largest Gay Civil Rights Organization

Needs Your Support

Membership: $15.00 and up includes NGTF Newsletter, "It's Time"

Name

Address

City..

State

Zip-

National Gay Task Force, Rm. 506, 80 Fifth Ave.. New York, N.V. 10011, Tel.: (212) 741-1010

R.H

words, "black" still being on the taboo list. During one lunch period I saw a Negro girl mimicking Robbie's walk as Robbie stood quietly by himself against some lockers. Finally Robbie got enough of it, walked over to his tormentor, and gave her a hard slap across the back. She ran away yelping.I guess it was such incidents that got Robbie down to the office of dean or principal.

During the eighth grade he announced proudly, for all to hear, that he was pregnant. "The baby will come in five months," he said.

This sent off gales of laughter each time that Robbie talked about it, but Robbie only beamed, "Y'all just jealous!" he would shout and then turn away haughtily.

One day a Negro boy came up to him and said, "When you pregnant, Robbie, you supposed to have a big belly!"

"Shut you mouth, pimp!" Robbie snapped. "Just give me time!"

The boy roared with laughter and sauntered off.

Another time two Negro girls went up to Robbie and one taunted, "What someone like you need with a man? What good do a man do you?"

"Shut you mouth, black bitch!" Robbie screamed. "What you mean what good do a man do me? What good do one do you?"

The girls shrieked with pleasure and Robbie reached out to strike them, but they skipped away.

Robbie wouldn't give up about the baby.

"Who's the father?" a white! boy heckled.

"None you business who the father is, white trash," Robbie said, lifting his head. Then after a pause he added, with indignation, "It ain't you!"

This particular boy crept away

defeated, the object of laughter from the group gathered around Robbie.

I don't know if the main office ever heard of the pregnancy episode. It went on for at least two months, and then Robbie vanished from school for at least two months. He returned with his beaming smile, looking the same as ever, and announcing that he had been away giving birth to the baby.

"I went to Cleveland to have the baby at my cousin's," he explained. "The baby is doing fine in Cleveland, and my cousin'll take care of it 'till school is out." No one thought to ask whether it was a boy or girl, or what the name was. Robbie didn't volunteer the information and the episode had clearly run its course. But Robbie found other ways to camp it up, go! bushels of ridicule, gave his strong retorts, and then flashed his good-natured smile.

·

Robbie must have quit school after the eighth grade I think he actually was behind for his age because I don't remember him at all in high school. During the next few years I saw him occasionally, once in the Fox Theatre, once in Crowley Milner's Department Store. We always exchanged greetings, and he flashed his friendly smile.

Then somewhere around the early Sixties, I saw Robbie in the Gilded Lily. The unisex look was coming to Detroit, and Robbie was one of the pioneers. He was now able to wear slacks that might have been worn by a woman as well, and his shirt, or blouse, could belong to either gender, as well as his sandals. His hair, before the Afro craze. was a length that could be either male or female. He had on faint make-up, and a stranger looking at him would be puzzled as to what sex he belonged to. As I was leaving the gay bar, I saw Robbie standing near the door talking with machine-gun rapidity to a small group.

THE

JANUARY 1977

SUPREMES

by Van Ault

their fast-selling "High Energy" Following up the success of album, the Supremes deliver

even more voltage on their purposely titled current release. "Mary, Scherrie, & Susaye." The title is strongly indicative of the group's present concept. No longer are the Supremes composed of one lead vocalist and two backups (as when they wre led by ego-tripper Diana Ross), but instead are presented as three uniquely gifted singers, who shine individually, as well as a team. The Supremes also seem to have found a significant musical identity and direction, in contrast to efforts in recent years. "Mary, Scherrie, & Susaye" is basically hardcore rhythm & blues; it's the musical genre best suited to the combined personalities of the trio, and although the Ip's fast tempo makes much of the material very danceable, to confine it to the limits of disco would be an injustice, for the album is as

irresistable to listen to as it is to dance to. (Also worthy of note is that the Supremes were performing "disco" music before there were discoteques.) And so, this album by Mary Wilson, Scherrie Payne, and Susaye Green, and produced by Brian & Eddie Holland, emerges as the most vibrant endeavor to come out of the famous singing group since its inception in the early sixties.

Opening the eight-song package is the Supremes' new single, "You're My Driving Wheel": a hypnotic, suggestively worded song with thundering percussion, trembling keyboards, and growling synthesizer. The dynamic Scherrie Payne carries the lead, with the Supremes belting out the backup vocals in unison. This is the funkiest tune the Supremes have ever done, and it's definitely a winner. "Let Yourself Go", another hard-jamming sound, is equally infect"Hi!" I called, and smiled and ious, as it opens at a charging waved.

"Corner of Bagley and Grand River," I heard him say as I ap. proached. Then in his eyes there was the flash of recognition.

"Hi!" he called to me, demurely but loudly, and smiled and waved.

"Corner of Bagley and Grand River!" I heard Robbie repeat to his group.

lope, climaxing with an electrifying shriek, only to lead into Susaye Green's solo, "Come Into My Life." Susaye, whose voice is also heard on Stevie Wonder's "Songs In The Key Of Life" album, possesses a remarkable five octave range that is imIpressive in any context.

I wonder how much heartbreak was behind Robbie's good-natured smile?

Was his way of dealing with hostility better than mine? wonder this because under the skin -and I'm not punning -we were identical in type; we simply dealt with life in different ways.

However, the album's chief flaw, as exemplified by this cut, is the producer's reliance on excessive orchestral padding, instead of the full abilities of the Supremes' voices (which need little assistance to communicate musically).

Of course, the Supremes are equally capable of rendering beautiful ballads, and they include two this outing, "You're The Heat Of Me", and the very

CONTINUED ON PAGE 25