Yo Momma So Black
The boys in my 5th grade class frequently played this game called “Capping” or “Playing the Dozens”.
In layman’s terms, this was a game about exchanging comedic insults like “You so stupid, when you read a sign saying ‘Airport Left’ you turned around and went home” or “You so broke, you have to put a color TV on layaway because you can only pay off one color at a time”. This would continue until someone gave up, then a new challenger would step in to face the standing champion.
Capping was popular that year during the 5th grade. It took on this gladiatorial like appeal, where during recess, crowds of kids gathered to watch these verbal duels.
In my class, there was 20 minutes of free time every afternoon. We began using this break to practice. Like clockwork, when that daily window of opportunity arrived, many of us boys would gather together in the back of the room to begin a mini Capping competition.
After our regular teacher had a seizure in class (a long, troubling story for another time), a substitute, Mr. Edwin, took over for an extended period. An older Black man originally from New York, he enjoyed frequently talking about subjects like the Harlem Renaissance, and the numerous figures who made it such a memorable era with their art, music, and literature. Before his lectures, my understanding of Black history centered around…