Beth Paulson

Home Training

The first black man I ever saw,

a husky man in a blue work shirt,

sat at our kitchen table in 1948

on Bellevue Street in Covington.

 

One whole morning I watched him

move about our small apartment

with rolls of wallpaper, knife, brush

he dipped into a can of runny paste

before he held up sheets of floral paper

with his large, brown hands

and smoothed them onto the wall

with a fat yellow sponge.

 

Lunchtime Mother invited him

to sit with us where she served

bowls of tomato soup.

I tried not to stare at his pink palms

as he sipped from his spoon,

ate a sandwich she had made

of bologna on white bread,

lettuce curling out the sides.

 

Blue eyes wide open, I was shy

while she made conversation

and he answered politely in a low voice.

Meantime, Harry Truman was signing

Bills 9980 and 998l to kick-start civil rights

and desegregate federal jobs and the military,

though in Ohio racism prevailed.

 

When we finished, he wiped his lips

with his napkin, told Mother Thank you.

He bent down and smiled at me.

His teeth were very white.