“And you can all talk to Liza more about her summer during break!” Mr. John cuts in.
“Right. Sorry.” Liza giggles. “I talk a lot. One word? Please.”
The girl with twists snorts from across the circle. I watch her roll her eyes at Liza. Liza makes a cross-eyed face back. They both smile.
Next is a sour-faced boy named Tagen. “I’m in the 4th grade. I like Minecraft. My summer was ‘fine’” is all he says.
Finally. The girl with the teal hair takes her turn. “I’m Jojo.” She starts. “Well my full name is Jo-han-na but people get that wrong all the time. I’m in the 6th well I guess the 7th grade now. I just moved here from Ohio with my dad. And my summer was. Well I think someone already said it.” She says looking right at me. “But it was ‘a mess.’”
“Wow. You all had eventful summers. Even if they were not fun it sounds like you all have a lot to catch up on during our lunch break. Now let’s get to business.” Mr. John doesn’t waste another minute. “It’s time to learn how to debate!”
The group groans. Even Huck seems annoyed. But all I can think about is Huck standing so close. And the new girl. And that maybe this homeschool year won’t be so bad after all.
Lists
That night. After group. I grab my songbook and write:
THINGS I HAVE IN COMMON WITH JOJO
1. Our melanin is poppin! Obvi. (Jojo is technically mixed. Black dad. White mom.)
2. Both our nicknames have four letters in them.
3. Both of us moved to Albuquerque this year.
4. We both love to sing. (Jojo is going to audition for the New Mexico Youth Choir next month. She’s trying to get me to as well.)
5. We have complicated families. (Her parents are divorced. Her mom still lives in Ohio.)
6. We like to read.
7. Neither of us have a cell phone yet but we made our parents exchange numbers so we can meet at the library soon.
8. Both of us need phones. ASAP. Like yesterday.
Then I turn to the next page and write:
THINGS TO ASK HUCK NEXT GROUP (IF YOU DARE!)
1. Why was your summer “never-ending”?
2. What’s your favorite Billie Holiday song?
3. What’s your favorite country?
4. Do you want to hang out sometime?
5. Do you like me?
Then I close my songbook and slip it under the rug in my room.
Telling
Two days later I meet Jojo at the library. Mama drops me off and Jojo’s dad sets up his laptop in the main room to get some work done.
“My dad’s a graphic designer.” Jojo says as we head to the youth room. “He ‘works from home’ a lot. But that’s why we moved here so he could work and also homeschool me during the day. He says this job is more flexible than his last one.”
“Oh. Cool. I guess my mom kinda ‘works from home’ too.” I say.
We find an empty table in the youth room and sit under it. We’ll look for books later. Right now we just pick up where we left off Monday at lunch.
“Favorite color?” Jojo asks.
“Purple.”
“Mine’s gold or teal. Or gold and teal together.”
“I figured.” I say pointing to her hair. She’s pulled her twists up into a big bun on the top of her head. “I love your hair. Wish I could do that to mine.”
“Thanks!” She says. “You can. I mean I got it done in Ohio. But you know. Your hair’s long enough. You could totally get purple twists added in.”
“Yeah.” I say. Touching my Afro and thinking of the soft leather of Stormy’s chair. “Maybe I will. I know a good place to get our hair done. Maybe we can go together sometime?”
“Sure!” Jojo smiles. “I’d like that.”
We whisper and laugh. And whisper some more. The youth room is mostly empty since it’s the middle of the school day. It’s not the willow that Lena and I liked to sit under in Baltimore but it’s another kind of hideout.
“So.” Jojo starts. “Why was your summer a mess or messy? I mean. If you feel like sharing.”
I do. Want to share. But instead I get goose bumps on my arms. I scoot so that I am sitting on top of my hands. I feel them numbing under the weight of my body. I want to tell Jojo everything. To trust that she’s not going to turn on me. But after El Rio. After Alma. After my own sister hurting me I am not sure it’s a good idea. To share. We hardly know each other after all.
But Jojo keeps talking. “Well. I don’t mind telling you about my messy summer. I mean. I can tell you won’t blab. You know. I think I probably have a bigger mouth than you. But I can keep a secret.”
“I can too.”
“Well.” Jojo says leaning in closer to me. “Another reason we moved here is to get away from my mom. She’s an addict. Well I mean it’s an illness. Being addicted to pills. And alcohol. And you know. She was doing better. And I really thought they might get together again. But then I guess she started hiding it from my dad. And so here we are. I only saw her every other weekend in Ohio anyway. But still.”
Jojo stops talking then. Like she’s run out of breath. She hangs her head and picks at a piece of the carpet with her fingers. I can tell she’s been holding everything in all summer as well. Let yourself show.
“My mom’s sick too.” I say quietly. And then I let the whole messy story spill out of me.
Imagining Lady Day’s Return
I’m reading a book about Billie Holiday. A biography. Mama says it can count toward my history studies. It’s so good that I can’t put it down. I sit in the sunroom on Sunday flipping the pages as fast as I can.
All this time I knew Billie was singing the blues. But I didn’t really understand what she had to be blue about. But Billie had a hard life. When she was just a newborn her dad left her mom. Her mom who was only nineteen (the same age as my birth mother) had to leave Billie with family members all the time while she worked on trains to earn money.
I read about Billie and think about that word orphan:
Noun—A child deprived by the death of one or both parents
One who is deprived of parental protection or privilege
About how Billie’s parents were both alive but absent. How maybe they tried to protect her but couldn’t. How she had to raise herself. How Billie skipped school. Didn’t really fit in. How she got sent to juvenile detention. How she worked for years on the streets. How all that lonely. Made her need to sing. How she found the stage and got famous. But how she still hurt and did drugs to numb the hurt. And how her addiction. Her illness. Would one day end her.
I read the whole book in one sitting. I take her story and put it next to mine. Next to Mama’s. And I think about Mama playing her violin at Carnegie Hall. On the same stage that Billie sang on in 1948. Just two days after coming out of jail. I think about what music does for women. For me.
I shut my eyes and just imagine I am there. As Billie plants herself center stage that night. As she stands tree still. Her head still stinging where she pricked it. Backstage. Pinning her gardenias in place. How even the photographers standing front and center in the audience must have aimed their enormous steel faces at her. Target practice. Flash! Bull’s-eye.
Brava! I can hear a man’s voice cry before Billie has even begun. I see her closing her eyes. Purple veins bloom on her thrown-back throat. And then from somewhere her voice escapes. Her gloved arms rise like two ghosts off the sides of her sequined torso. She sings for more than two hours. Thirty-two songs lit in her throat. And then the finale: Blood on the leaves and blood at the root. Billie. Lady Day. She burns the house down.
Chances
A couple Mondays later homeschool group meets at our house. During lunch break I sneak away to my room. I grab my songbook and flip to my list. IF YOU DARE! But do I? Huck said hello to me again today. And sat close to me in the circle. But I always get sweaty and tong
ue-tied when I try to say more than three words to him. “What is your problem Keda?” I say to my reflection. “Get it together.” But I start to feel dizzy. So I grab a pen and rip a page from my songbook. Plan B.
Dear Huck
I wanted to write you an email while you were at Model UN camp. But I was too shy to ask for your address. I feel like we have a lot in common. For example you knew Billie Holiday was a woman. And not many kids our age get that. Anyway. Do you want to hang out sometime? Maybe you can tell me about your favorite Billie song? Or not. We can talk about whatever else too.
Keda
I read it over. I’m running out of time. I’m sure Lena could help me say it better but I have to work quickly. I fold up the note into a tiny square. Then I rush back down the hall toward the sunroom. By the front door is a pile of shoes and bags. I scan the pile for Huck’s blue backpack. And then I drop the note into its front pocket before I lose my nerve.
State Capitol
Two Thursdays after I leave Huck the note homeschool group meets at the state capitol building in Santa Fe for a field trip. The building is round instead of square. It is the only round capitol building in the whole United States. We gather on the front steps as everyone arrives. Some parents join us for the day. Others drop off and head into Old Town to have an adventure of their own.
The New Mexico state flag waves high above the building. It is bright yellow with a circular red sun symbol in the middle of it that has lines pointing out in four directions. Mr. John blows the hair back from his forehead and starts a head count. “Ok. Looks like we’re just missing Carl and Emma. We’ll give them a few more minutes.”
I’m standing with Jojo. But she is in a deep conversation with Liza about horses. “I just don’t like animals that are bigger than me.” Jojo says. But Liza is not having it.
“Oh no. They are very gentle loving animals.” Liza protests. “You just have to show them who is boss. You should come to my place sometime. I’ll show you. You too Keda. Do you like horses?” She leans over and pats my hand.
“Huh. Yeah. I mean I have never ridden one. But I’d try.”
“Ugh. Fine.” Jojo says. “If Keda goes. I’ll go. But you gotta show us everything Liza.”
Liza claps her hands with delight and launches off into planning our visit. I tune out her voice and glance over at Huck. He’s reading a plaque by the front entrance. Besides saying a quick hello when we arrived. He’s barely acknowledged me. Go over there. I will my feet to move but before I can take a step Emma and Carl jump out of a car. And we all head inside for the tour.
Our tour guide tells us the history of New Mexico and the state building. We learn all about the state symbol and flag and we even get to see the room where our senators and representatives debate and vote and pass important laws and policies. Mr. John keeps his comments to a minimum and it is nice to be learning from someone else instead.
After our tour we sit outside in the sun and eat our lunches. Mr. John makes us write a list of questions and reflections. Then he facilitates a short discussion about what we saw. Midway through the discussion I have to pee. I get up and throw my lunch away. I head inside to use the bathroom. When I step back out Huck is there. Filling his water bottle up at the fountains. But when I look. I can see his water bottle is already full. Water overflows onto his hands.
“Hey.” I say.
Huck jumps a little. “Hey. I was um. Just getting some more water.”
“Oh.” I feel my ears get hot. He wasn’t waiting for me. “Well stay hydrated.” I hear myself say as I turn around to go back outside. Why. Why did I say that?
“Wait. Keda.” Huck is right behind me again. Close. “I uh. Well here.” Huck shoves a note into my hands and then practically runs out of the building ahead of me.
I unwrap the note. My toes tingle.
Dear Keda
My favorite Billie Holiday song is “Easy Living.” And yes. I’d like to hang out sometime. I’m shy too. Sorry I took so long to write back.
Huck
890-555-6107
And my legs tingle. And my face. And I tuck Huck’s note into my pocket. And keep it there. For the rest of the day.
QUESTIONS I HAVE FOR BLACK GIRLS LIKE ME
posted October 17th
Dear L
Are you mad at me? I am worried. You never wrote me after gymnastics camp. Where are you? I’ve called your mom’s cell a bunch of times. Did she tell you I called? Do you hate me? I hope not. I hope you answer soon.
Here are some things that have happened:
1. My mom tried to kill herself. She’s doing better now. But nothing is the same and it was a really scary summer. I’ll tell you more over the phone.
2. I’m still homeschooled. There is ab new girl in group named Jojo (who I think you’d like) and a girl named Liza who is going to teach me to ride a horse. So that will be an adventure.
3. HUCK LIKES ME! I mean. I think. We are going to hang out alone. As friends for now. But we’ll see what happens.
4. This summer I realized that adults have just as many questions as we do. That they don’t have all the answers. Is this what it feels like to grow up?
Lena. I miss you. Write me soon.
XOXO
K
QUESTIONS I HAVE FOR BLACK GIRLS LIKE ME
posted October 19th
Dear K
I am so glad you posted your letter! When I didn’t see any posts from you after I got home from camp in August I was hurt. I guess I thought you had forgotten about me. So. I didn’t write. And then I just got it in my head that you didn’t need me anymore. I know you called a few times. I’m sorry I never responded. I meant to. My mom kept telling me to call you back. But I just couldn’t somehow. Stupid. I know. It’s hard to know what’s going on when we’re so far away from each other. I guess I just got insecure. I had no idea what you were going through.
But KEDA. Your mom. I don’t even know what to say. I feel so bad. I am going to call you this weekend ok? I can’t imagine what I would do if my mom tried to hurt herself. No wonder you didn’t write me. And my selfish butt thought you were ghosting on me.
Horseback riding! I am glad you are making some friends. Even if you are a homeschool nerd now. LOL. And of course Huck likes you. I knew it. Did you guys kiss yet? Are you in love? JKJK. But for real Keda. Kiss him.
Here are some things that happened to me over the summer:
1. I won the gold medal at my regional meet. I know. I know. Go me.
2. My parents got me a cell phone! They surprised me the first day of camp. I mean. It was mostly because they wanted to keep tabs on me. I wasn’t even allowed to keep it in my cabin. Camp rules. I had to check it out from the main office when I wanted to call them. I honestly didn’t use it that much. I was too busy. But still. I am so excited. Now that I’m home my parents let me keep it on me. I’ll email you my number so you can call or computer-text me directly. Ok?
3. I dated this boy at gym camp. Actually. We’re still dating. He lives in DC. But we talk all the time. His name is Raphael. OMG. Isn’t that so cute? Like the Ninja Turtle. Or maybe it’s the painter? Whatever. I’m hoping to visit him soon. If I can convince my mom and dad to take me.
4. And yeah. Adults have no idea what they are doing. They just pretend to.
I hope you know I’m still your #ashyforlife best friend. Even when I’m being insecure.
Your BFF
L
Kin (noun)
Is one of my favorite words. I look it up again after reading Lena’s post. I like the way it sounds on my tongue. Kin.
A people who come from a common ancestry
One’s blood or chosen relatives
Then I start a new post and type a song I’ve been working on:
posted October 21st
You are my kin
My kind
My kin inside and out
A sister-friend
> Full of wonder
And light
With you I am
Always singing
Let’s stand side by side
In the sun
Let’s be seeds
Smooth and black
Forever growing tall
Stuck in the middle of it all
My kin
My kind
My kin
Inside and out
Family Fridays
In early November Mama Papa Eve and I go roller-skating in the middle of the day. Ever since Mama came home Papa has made an effort to spend Fridays with us. Before his concerts in the evening. So far we’ve been to the movies. To the zoo. Out to lunch at Sweet Tomato followed by shopping at the mall. And now this week: Roller Palace!
Back in Baltimore Eve and I took ice-skating lessons for about a month. So after a few times around the Roller Palace rink we are coasting. Papa and Mama not so much. They stay at the very edges of the rink and take baby steps but still somehow end up falling on their butts every five minutes.
“Help us!” Mama screams with laughter as she tries to untangle Papa’s legs from hers. I zoom up and stop in front of them. I try pulling Mama up but she flails and falls again. Papa rolls onto the rug next to the rink and then stands up by getting on his knees first and crawling for a bit like a baby.
“Well. I guess you two should stick to playing music then.” Eve has zoomed up behind me. She is smiling as well. “You guys suck at this.”
And as she says that Mama rolls off the rink onto the rug. And crawls like a baby toward the benches. She is laughing so hard that her whole body shakes.
“That’s it!” She says. “I’m calling it. I give up.”
Papa who has managed to stand baby scoots over to her. He is red in the face. His smile crooked and loose. “Me too!”
For Black Girls Like Me Page 16