by Nikki Grimes
Black people keep reminding me that I’m not one of them. Asians shun me because my blood is not “pure.” And whites are still making up their minds, although some want me to be their friend so I can help them with their math! Which is a joke, because I don’t like math. So where does that leave me? I look around this class, with Black kids, Latinos, Jews, and Italians, and I wonder how I’m ever supposed to connect with any of them.
But then we had an assembly yesterday with all these kids reading poetry. They seemed to get along with each other, almost like a family. They said it was the poems that brought them together. It can’t be that simple, can it?
Their teacher is supposed to be doing poetry again next year. Maybe I’ll get his class. Who knows? I can think of worse things.