Jen climbed the stairs of the school bus, trying to catch her breath. As she reached the top and looked throughout the bus, she was taken aback and questioned if she had boarded the wrong one. The bus, half-full, was occupied entirely by Black people; not a single other white person in sight. When the bus driver closed the door, and the bus began to move, Jen cautiously made her way down the aisle. She found an empty seat about three-quarters of the way back, feeling uneasy as some students gave her weird glances.
Seated, Jen gazed out the window, feeling a lump in her throat as she took in the view of the impoverished neighborhood where she now lived. She watched people leaving their homes and getting into their cheap cars and saw younger children waiting for their school buses. It struck her that all her neighbors were white, a stark contrast to the all-Black bus she was on.
Eventually, the bus left her neighborhood and drove down a boulevard. After crossing a set of train tracks, it turned down another street. This neighborhood was more affluent, with every house featuring lush, green lawns, elegant patio and yard decorations, and long, decorative driveways with luxury cars parked in nearly every one. She saw people walking their dogs, jogging, and leaving their houses for work. She noted that everyone she saw was black, and her heart churned, wondering what bizarro world she had been sent to.
The bus made several stops in this neighborhood, picking up several students, all of whom were black, just as Jen had suspected. She observed their fashion choices, noting the girls with their high-end leggings and fashionable handbags, and the boys with their designer jeans and shirts. Jen, though not necessarily racist, often relied on stereotypes, and it was a shock for her to see so many well-dressed, wealthy black people.
Jen turned on her phone, noting that the date was unchanged, so she hadn't been teleported to the future. The weather app confirmed she was still in her hometown, indicating she hadn't relocated. As she opened TikTok and began scrolling through her feed, she noticed that most of the content featured black people, all dressed fashionably with some posts generally having a nerdier vibe. She did come across a few white content creators, whose posts generally had a more "hood" aesthetic and humor targeted more toward those familiar with poverty.
When Jen checked her profile, she saw that her bio was mostly the same. But, after "18 East Hampton," there was a new hashtag: "#WLM." Unfamiliar with this term, she clicked on the hashtag, which led her to pages and trends that quickly revealed its meaning: "white lives matter." Shaking slightly, she decided to google the term and confirmed her disturbing suspicion. In this world she found herself in, white people were the ones oppressed. Not only had she lost her wealth, but she also now belonged to an oppressed race.
Jen stared out the window, on the brink of tears, grappling with the new reality she faced. She felt undeserving of it all. She had always been kind and considerate to everyone. Sure, she could have been a bit nicer at times, but she certainly didn't deserve this. Lost in her thoughts, she half-listened to the conversation of the two guys sitting in front of her.
"Did you check out the game last night?"
"Yeah, I saw the end of it."
"Did you see the video of that one white dude getting decked?"
"No. Wait, was that why there was that weird blackout?"
"Yeah, some white lives matter protestor or something stormed the court. One of the security guys came in and tackled him full force. Here, let me pull up the video."
Jen curled her fist as she heard the two guys laugh.
"No way, what an idiot. Dude deserved it."
"I know. White lives matter." the one boy mocked.
As the bus approached the school, it became increasingly crowded with students. Near the final stop, a Black girl stepped down the aisle, scanning for an available seat. It was then Jen noticed that her seat was the last one free on the bus. She slid closer to the window, anticipating that the girl would join her. However, the girl first tried sitting beside the two girls across the aisle from Jen.
"Come on, just squeeze in."
"No way, just sit over there."
Jen heard her stifle a quiet groan of displeasure as she reluctantly settled into the seat, positioning herself on the very edge to maximize the distance between them. Jen briefly considered making a friendly remark but decided against it, sensing the interaction might not go as she hoped. She turned to gaze out the window, already dreading the arrival at school.
When the bus finally arrived, Jen stepped off with the others, feeling a deep sense of isolation as no one seemed interested in talking to her. She joined the crowd heading into the main building and was relieved to find that her school hadn't changed at all. Eager to find her locker, she navigated to the familiar English hallway. As she walked through the corridors, she felt incredibly awkward and out of place, realizing that she seemed to be the only white student there. After arriving at her locker, she gathered her books for the upcoming classes. Just as she was about to close the door, someone finally came over to talk to her.