Genesis Begins Again

by Alicia D. Williams

I want to ask how they got the land in the first place, ’cause in social studies we’re only taught that Blacks weren’t allowed to own property—and then the lesson jumps all the way to Rosa Parks not getting off that bus.

I dare raise my hand, and she calls on me. “Well, the book says that Ponyboy thinks the main difference is money, but I think the two groups are different because they separate themselves, well, by their opinions. The Socs all look at the Greasers and think they’re better than them based on how the Greasers all look and what they’ve heard about them. The Greasers look at the Socs and say, ‘They think they’re all that.’ No one stops to think for themselves. No one sees the individual persons. They make a judgment based on the outside, without even getting to know one another.”

Needless to say, Monday morning I’m too distracted to volunteer to read my paragraph on what the author is emphasizing, yet Ms. Luctenburg calls on me. Then in PE, I’m too wiped to do push-ups, and I’m forced to tune out Coach’s barks to dig deeper. And by the time I get to math, well, you already know there’s no chance of me untangling an algorithm when my own mind is gnarled in tangles.

Someone shouts, “You better sing, girl!” And then I hear it. The audience, they’re clapping and snapping along with the beat. I trail off with a “da-dat-dat-doo-wah,” then I summon Etta. I let each word soar. I swoop down to hug the little girl sitting on the curb with all her furniture. I visit the girl in the basement with the wrinkled brown bag passing from hand to hand. I kiss the lonely girl who hears ugly taunts from the mirror. I experience every single moment. And I’m not afraid. I am not afraid.