Mr. Andrew Hacker has worked for the Department of Ethnic Diversity for fifteen years and since its creation, shortly after the end of the Minority/Majority Civil War (M&M War), the D.E.D. has had an overwhelming success rate in deterring conflict between races. The department made very few mistakes and never one as bad as this. Today was one of those days that Mr. Hacker hated. Today a mistake had to be rectified. Mr. Hacker looked at the file on his desk and shook his head unable to comprehend how this could have been over looked for so long.
Birth Number #539-1998-02-29
Given Name: Benjamin Woodworth
Scheduled Race: American African
Birth Race: Non-Hispanic Caucasian
This was not going to be a good day.
Mr. Hacker, dressed in his finest tight blue suit, stepped out of his office, the file in his brief case next to his MacBook and walkout to his TSV (Time Shared Vehicle). He pressed his thumb to the pad on the door and the vehicle unlocked. He set his brief case aside and pushed the command key on the TSVs’ console. The quiet hum of the electric hybrid engine began and the TSV asked in its robotic voice, “Destination please?”
“Yes, the home of Benjamin Woodworth, number five-three-nine,” Mr. Hacker replied. The TSV worked itself out onto the road and finding the shortest distance between the office and Mr. Woodworth’s home Mr. Hacker arrived all to quickly.
Ben was dictating his next best seller, “How a Civil War Saved America,” to his iMac his Automated Security System popped a video box onto his screen showing a man dressed in a tight blue suit walking up to his door. Ben commanded his iMac to save and power down, took a sip of coffee and left his home office to answer the door just as the bell rang. He opened the door and greeted the with his usual Cruisesque smile, “Howdy. What may I do for you?”
Mr. Hacker smiled back and replied, “Hello, Mr. Woodworth. I’m Mr. Hacker from the D.E.D. Uh… the Department of Ethnic Diversity?”
“Yes, of course. I’m writing a chapter on your department for my next book,” Ben said. Lifting his right brow, the way he did whenever he had misgivings about something he continued, “What does the D.E.D. want with me?”
******
After about an hour of explaining and many attempts to calm Ben down Mr. Hacker had finally gotten to the part that calmed every red blooded American down: money.
“The D.E.D. is well aware of the inconvience going through a Transracial operation causes that is why we are prepared to offer reparations,” Mr. Hacker explained as Mr. Woodworth robot assistant Asimo refreshed his drink.
“What kind of reparations,” Ben asked?
“Name your price,” Mr. Hacker boldly stated.
“Name my price? Are you kidding?”
“No. The D.E.D. has nearly in exhaustable funds in matters of peace such as this. So, name your price.”
“Okay. One million dollars a year for the rest of my life.”
Now, Mr. Hackers eyebrow raised, “As I’ve explained our audit of your life predicts you will live another fifty years…”
“As a black man,” Ben interrupted, “ Yes, I understand that. I also understand that even with your guarantee that I will live another fifty years, as a black man, I am more than likely to die of some terrible disease. I’ve done research on this. According to the [U.S.] Department of Health & Human Services website, black males are more susceptible to “…heart diseases, stroke, cancer, asthma, influenza and pneumonia, diabetes, HIV/AIDS.” There will even be an increase in chance that I will die of a homicide canceling out your guarantee!
So yes, I will be asking for one million a year for the rest of my life.”
“Alright. I’ll take that down. However, I’m going to leave you some littiture I want you to read and there are some questions I’d like you to answer before we finish the paper work. I’ll come back in two weeks time…”
Works Cited
"Data/Statistics: African American Profiles." The Office of Minority Health. 2005. U.S. Department of Health & Services. 13 Apr 2007
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