Chicago. Saturday night. Somewhere near Garfield Park. Hip Hop Poet night at an urban church. Several groups performing. Request goes out for a male and a female volunteer. A young black female volunteers. Another call for a man. A skinny 16-year-old boy stands. Mouths drop in disbelief at this white boy in glasses. They shrug, motion him forward and hand him the microphone and tell him to rap about his glasses. "Nah, breakdancing." And off he goes. Brings the house down.
This is the story related to me, his mother, by several people when I picked Ricky up from the mission trip to Chicago. No, he didn't breakdance (surprise!) but he sure rapped about it.
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