UNIFORM

A motion picture by Jordan Okuzu a.k.a. Amadaeus

NARRATOR: Hi. I’m Jordan Okuzu. I’m going to be narrating the majority
of this long ass film, so if you can’t bang with that, you might as
well leave while you still can. You still here? Okay.
This movie is about me, or more or less, the carefree black kids that
may have never felt like they fit in. Those with passions that their
parents do not really see them excelling in, and even go as far to
belittle them as “hobbies” until they see how serious they are about
said passions. Those that might go to school with an environment of
ignorant ass kids that already have expectations of what they think
they’re supposed to be when really they are so much more. Then again,
that can go out to more than just black kids, but just kids in
general. As long as I can remember, I have always been entailed with
superheroes and just seeing them and saying “That would be so fuckin
cool to have my own powers, beat up bad guys and help people.” Well at
7, my dreams were shortly crushed by no other than the likes of, you
guessed it, my Nigerian. Black. Mother.

FADE IN:

(Circa 2009, Enter Jordan and Mom in Saddlestone Court Maryland Home)

JORDAN, now a small, chubby, short-haired second grader, was on the

floor of the living room playing with action figures when he was asked
a question by his mom.

MOM:
Eh, Jhodun, what do you want to be when you get older?

JORDAN:
I want to be a superhero! I wanna be like Spider-Man, or Batman, or
Wolverine, or-

MOM:
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Do you not want be an ehhh doctor or
lawyer like your sistahs?
 JORDAN:
Well, no. I want to fly around and fight bad guys.

MOM:
“Fight bad guy-” Ah ah! You need to fight those books! *messes up hair
and walks away*

JORDAN:
*Gives sad look towards the ground, discouraged*

NARRATOR: Okay, okay. This isn’t exactly what happened, but if this
isn’t an accurate representation, I don’t know what is. Of course,
things change as you get older. As in me, I changed. My mom, not so
much. I went from wanting to be a superhero, to artist, animator, then
to recording artist. Now believe me, saying something along those
lines, especially wanting to be a “recording artist” in an African,
not African American, an AFRICAN household is not necessarily the
wisest decision, but then again, I’m not really a wise person. I’m not
gonna lie, at first, I didn’t take it that seriously. Like I would
just do it as a way of entertaining my friends ever since the 5th
grade. That was probably my first rap ever. It went something like

CUT TO:

(Circa 2012, George T. Cromwell Elementary School playground)

JORDAN:
Rappin til I’m tired, then I’ll go take a nap/ Can’t say take a shit,
so I say take a crap

Friends:
*Laughing, dapping me up*

NARRATOR: It was something of that nature, ion know, I just remember

those being the rhyming words. I mean the fuck could I rap about, Ben
10 and finding out what porn was?
Like the only struggle I had was faking sleep when my mom came to
check on me so I could watch [adult swim] when she left. Although,
like I said, things change when you get older. Fast forward to St.
Alphonsus, the second private school that I had ever attended. I.
Fucking. Hated it. I was the only black kid in my eighth grade, and
the second one in the entire school, until one more came in for sixth
grade. Like who the fuck am I supposed to relate to? I was worried,
but luckily I made some nice white friends, so no trouble whatsoever.
I mean there wasn’t until.....

(Circa 2016, in Math class, sitting next to my friend Tony)

TONY:
Ya know something?

JORDAN:
What?

TONY:
You’re like ...the whitest black kid that I have ever met.

JORDAN:
*Looks in black confusion with an unsure smile* What……? What do you
mean by that? Like I’m obviously black.

TONY:
Well yeah, but like I don’t know ...you just kinda are. Like you act
white I guess.

NARRATOR: See at first, I didn’t know what to think of such statements

like that. Like at the time, I didn’t know if was an insult, but it
sure as hell was not a compliment. I didn’t like the way he said it to
me when I first heard it. And I really didn’t like when people would
call me that, and only me that in high school. Like why am I the one
being called white and not these other black kids? What made me
different? What made me the odd one out? To this day, there’s no real
answer to that question. They say dumb shit like “oH pRiVatE sChoOl iS
sUpPoSeD tO bE bEtTeR” and “PeOpLe LeArN dIsCiPlInE bY gOiNg ThErE.” I
fuckin swear to God its the same dumb shit in a typical public high
school, accompanied with Catholicism and shitty uniforms. I thought
St. Alphonsus was bad. WHEW CHILE. That was only a taste of the
bullshit course I would experience out this fuckin backwards
institution. Psssh. “Forever True” my fuckin ass.
CUT TO:

(Circa 2016, North Catholic High School: in the team room, JORDAN is
sitting down at a table in room facing away from the other kids at
other tables and kids playing games around him. He has headphones in,
honing all his attention on his computer screen.)

JORDAN:
*Watching anime on Funimation off his school laptop in homeroom,
minding his business*

White kid # 1:
*Comes over to see what I’m doing and catches wind of Dragon Ball
Super on my Surface Pro screen, taps my shoulder*

JORDAN:
*Takes off headphones to listen to him*

White kid # 1:
Ya know, I’ve never seen a black person watch anime before.

JORDAN:
Cmon, a lot of black people do. I mean, they might not be as open
about it as I am, but trust me, a lot do.

White kid #1:

Well, you’re the first I’ve ever seen. *Walks off*

JORDAN:
*thinking* That was weird, I mean a lot do. What makes him think I’m
the first? *notices his friends playing around with a lacrosse ball
and stops watching DBS to join*

JORDAN:
Hey, pass it to me!

ZEKE:

Okay, sure. *throws ball in my direction*

 JORDAN:
*Misses the catch, tries to bounce ball after picking it up but loses
the momentum quickly* Shit.

ZEKE:
Hahaha! Dude, you have to be the most uncoordinated black person I
have ever seen!

Kids around:
*Laughing agreeingly*

ZEKE:
Like you’re tall and black, yet you can’t even play basketball, let
alone sports right? What is wrong with you?

Kids around:
*Laughing harder, agreeingly*

JORDAN:
Dude, just because I’m tall and black doesn’t necessarily mean I have
to be good at sports. Like where did you even get that shit from?

ZEKE:
Uh, yes it does. Black people are automatically great at sports,
that’s a known fact. Due to your race in comparison to mine, you
should have the edge in sports over me. That’s just how things are
supposed to be. But I guess ...there's wildcards like you, huh? I
guess black men can’t jump!

Kids around:
*Laughing way to hard, one on the floor*

White kid # 2:
Uh hahahah! Ohhhh shit, that was so funny! “I guess black men ca-”
Hahahah FUCK!

NARRATOR: Y’know what the funny thing about that kid is? He used to be
one of my “best friends” from that point on to the beginning of
sophomore year. We both had the same sense of fucked up humor, he
shared the same love of XXXTentacion when I showed him to him, if not
more, he was just cool people and he looked at me the same way. So I
don’t know why he fuckin said that. Ohhhh, and that's only the start.
Y’all remember that gorilla Harambe? The one that is subject to all
types of memes and shit? Well, these white people had a funny way of
using that name, and not to my liking.

CUT TO:

*In the downstairs cafeteria, still freshman year, Jordan is sitting

down with friends, trying to eat, only to hear heckling and
belittlement from the table over behind.*

JORDAN:
*About to take a bite, is interrupted*

FAT FUCK:
Hey, Harambeeee!

JORDAN:
*Pissed off facial expression*

OSMOSIS & OSIAH:

*Both maintaining a surprised expression*

OSIAH:
Bro, I’d be embarrassed as fuck if I were you right now.

JONATHAN:
Dude, isn’t that like, super racist for him to do that? Why don’t you
tell them to stop?

JORDAN:
Don’t you think I’ve tried that?! I even told em that shit is fuckin
racist and they just dismiss it with, “nO iTs nOt, YoU’Re jUsT mAd YoU
cAn’T tHiNk oF a CoMeBaCk.” I fuckin hate this goddamn school.

FAT FUCK:
*Holding phone with a picture of Harambe* Hey Harambe, turn around!
 JORDAN: *turns around*

FAT FUCK:
*Comparing Jordan’s face with the picture* Duuuude, he looks just like
him!

FAT FUCK AND OTHERS:

*Obnoxious laughter*

NARRATOR: You wanna know what really confused me? When the BLACK dude
in that same grade, said the same shit to my face. Not from a table.
To. My. Fucking. Face..

CUT TO:

*JORDAN is walking down a more or less barren hallway, when he spots

BUSTIN, a taller, bulkier black junior with a sorry attempt for a
mustache, chin hair, and kinky hair accompanied by a fade, in the far
distance as he passes various classrooms on his way.*

JORDAN:
*Bumps into Bustin*

BUSTIN:
*turns around in confusion, on guard*
Aye bro, watch where y— *takes a good look that its Jordan*

BUSTIN:
Oh shit...you’re that Harambe kid! Whats good bro?! *awkwardly daps
him up*

JORDAN:
*Disheartedly daps him up* Dude, my names not f—

BUSTIN:
Ok, ok. Whatever you say, Harambe whatever you say. I’ll see you
around bro, *under his breath* dusty ass nigga.

JORDAN:
 *thinking* I thought high school would be fun, cool new experiences,
type shit like that. Ayo, what the FUCK is this? White people don’t
think I’m “black enough, whatever the fuck that means, and black
people are on the same shit as THEM? I-if anything, shouldn’t they be
SYMPATHIZING?!

NARRATOR: Yeah so, needless to say freshman year was a god. Damn.
Mess, bro. Like that was definitely the epitome of me getting shitted
on for being myself. How I was such a pussy towards all the bullshit
is definitely sum I regret. I started to stick up for myself more in
sophomore year, checking people that needed checking, not taking that
ignorant bullshit from others. I was damn near the last of a dying
breed since all half of the handful of black kids left. Some kids
didn’t take too kindly to me sitting for the pledge. Even some
administrators…

DISSOLVE TO:

(Circa 2017, JORDAN, slightly more mature, more taller version, is

coming out of the auditorium after mass, the pledge, and
announcements)

JORDAN:
Aight, lemme put away my blazer and I’ll meet up with y-

BARRY:
Hey!

JORDAN:
*Is cut off from conversation and halted by Barry and another senior*
Um yeah, can I help you?

BARRY:
Why didn’t you stand?

JORDAN:
Wha-stand for what?

BARRY:
Stand for the pledge!
 JORDAN:
Ohhhhhh, you’re one of those…

BARRY:
Yeah, one of those who respects my country! *storms off*

JORDAN:
*Rolls eyes* Anyways, like I was saying…

CUT TO:

JORDAN, waking up for school the next day with his mom yelling for him
to wake up in the distance, despite him already being awake.

CUT TO:

JORDAN, is now still standing after the prayer, with the rest of his
classmates, waiting for the student president to announce the pledge.

STUDENT PRESIDENT:
Now please remain standing for the pledge of allegiance.

JORDAN:
*About to sit down for the pledge*

TYRELL:
*Puts his hand on my shoulder, attempting to stop this*

JORDAN:
*Shrugs Tyrell off, looks back in disgust, than faces forward as
pledge continues and finishes*

MR. NITNACK:
*Walks up to Jordan and taps him on the shoulder, grabbing his
attention* Please see me in my office after Mass.

CUT TO: (Mr. Nitnack’s office)

JORDAN:
 *Pulls up a chair to sit down*

MR. NITNACK:
*Already sitting down* I presume that you know why you’re in this
office.

JORDAN:
Yes sir, I do.

MR. NITNACK:
Why are you in this office, exactly?

JORDAN:
Well, because I was sitting down for the pledge.

MR. NITNACK
And why exactly were you sitting down for the pledge?

JORDAN:
Well, sitting down for the pledge is a way of showing awareness and
respect for the African-Americans that have been killed by police
brutality in this country. It’s like saying “I can’t stand for a
country that pertains to injustice.”

MR. NITNACK:
OKay, well...for one, I am well aware of the injustice that has
occurred in this country, pertaining to black people, and I respect
that you are trying to protest against that in some manner. Although,
sitting down for the pledge doesn’t exemplify the...Catholic image we
want to uphold.

JORDAN:
*Confusion washes over his face* “Catholic image?” Nothing I said has
anything to do with Religion, what do you mean-?

MR. NITNACK:
I understand, I understand that, but this is a Catholic institution
and that does not display the image we want to portray for our school.
Plus *chuckles* if you really wanna do something for that cause, why
don’t you join the NAACP?
 JORDAN:
*Thinking* WHAT?!

NARRATOR: WHAT?!

MR. NITNACK:
*Pulls out an NAACP card to show off to me* See, I’m a member myself,
and I think that this here would be the more appropriate approach to
do what you are trying to do. You see back in the day…*drains on,
zoning out, voice echoing in the distance*
CUT TO:
Jordan is zoning out, the desk being feet farther away from him than
it originally was in his perception. Camera then pans around to an
exaggerated, close up of Jordan’s surprised expression, camera looking
down from the top of his head as a muffled MR. NITNACK talks in the
distance.

JORDAN:
*Thinking* He didn’t just say that. He didn’t just say that. He didn’t
just say that. He did not just that dumb shit. No, no. There’s like no
way. This has to be a fever dream. It’s only right. That’s the only
reasonable explanation. It has to be. It just has to. It just has to.
Like it’s only right. Like what possesses one to say...that?! Like,
you. Don’t. Say. That! Like the pledge has nothing, not a goddamn
thing to do with religion. And he knows I’m in no position to go as
far to join the-

CUT TO:

MR. NITNACK:
So, do you understand why you can’t sit down for the pledge?

JORDAN:
*Zoning back in* ...um...yeah...I guess.

MR. NITNACK:
OKay, good, well don’t worry, sir. You’re not in trouble and won’t be
receiving any repercussions, so you can head back to your first
period.
 JORDAN:
*shakes MR. NITNACK’s hand* Take care, sir.

MR. NITNACK:
Have a good day sir.

NARRATOR:

That was just the beginning of some bullshit that I came across.