Pope John Paul of Y'all Niggas

On the 24th of December, 1989; a child's innocence was lost. It had nothing to do with finding out the truth about Santa Clause, because in actuality he never really believed in Santa Clause to begin with. For the rest of the world other than being Christmas Eve, that date probably plays no significant meaning. However, for a group of kids in Mrs. Williams' 6th Grade class and one in particular it was the end of childhood, the day the music died and things would never be the same.

Toussaint Verde was a 12 years old that seemed to be a man in a boys body. He had an old soul and it almost seemed as if he had been here before. The summer of 1989 anther little boy moved to Jamaica Queens and eventually enrolled in P.S. 160 also known as Walter Francis Bishop Elementary School. The name made it seem a lot nicer than it really was. After arriving at the school that was surrounded by gates and burglar bars and security guards with their metal detectors and a play ground with no jungle gyms, only a wall that the children could play hand ball on this new student was in a complete culture shock as the standards and practices of the New York Education system. The first friend he made was the before mentioned Toussaint.

Toussaint was Tupac in a twelve year old body, before Tupac was even Tupac. He had a swagger about him and everybody seemed to gravitate towards him. He dressed, walked and talked the part. The girls loved him, the goons respected him, the younger kids looked up to him like the head of state and all the teachers liked him. What can you say, he was a hood legend he was the Pope John Paul of Walter Francis Bishop Elementary school.

The fact that he stretched his hand out in friendship to this new student, made the transition almost seamless; considering the fact that he was being co-signed for by the coolest dude in school. He didn't catch the hell most new kids catch when they enter a new school at that age, until they make a name for themselves. He was ushered in the cool clique immediately because of an act of kindness. And that maybe why the 24th of December 1989 hit him harder than most.

A handful of men involved in a shootout over a drug deal gone bad, let off shots in one of East New York's most notorious projects. This was the type of neighborhood that gun shots didn't really cause anyone to raise an eyebrow or lose sleep. The assailants fired off recklessly at each other and into the air and everywhere in their attempts to kill their adversaries. The sad part is that they weren't good at selling drugs and they were even worse at shooting, because none of them were even hit in the may lay. However, on the 12 floor of one of the project building sat Toussaint Verde looking out the window and waiting in auntie's apartment to get a hair cut. He was shot by two bullets to the head, slipped into a coma, and would never wake up. The ramifications of his death would be felt for many years after that balmy Christmas Eve.

Childhood was never the same after that; and how could anyone expect it to be. It is a sad day when a child realizes that they do have limitations and they are not invincible. Sometimes you don't have to wait for the next episode, Superman doesn't always make it. It took seven years for me to even sleep by a window again and that was only because the dorm I stayed in at the University of Miami, kind of gave me no choice. Occasionally, I think about him and what he could have or would have been doing if he hadn't gone to Brooklyn that day. His spirit has been with me ever since. It was a biographical essay about him that I used to get into college. And it is his swagger and personality I carry with me everyday, and his act of kindness that makes me want to help those trying to make their way through new or bad or difficult situations. I will certainly never forget him or what he meant to a little boy trying get adjusted in a new school and a new city.
TOUSSAINT VERDE will always be the epitome of cool. That was my dude and I'll always remember him.