Red at the Bone

by Jacqueline Woodson

Before she was his mama, she was a girl in Oakland, growing up in the system. For a long time, Aubrey hadn’t understood what the system was but knew, by the way his mother’s eyes darkened every time she spoke of it, that it wasn’t something he ever wanted to be a part of. Fuck around, she’d said, and your behind’s gonna end up in the system. Later on, he understood it had something to do with the ashy violent boys who came after him in school yards. Something to do with the sad-looking girls who walked through the halls holding their notebooks up over their chests. He knew the system was the white woman on the beach when he was seven years old who asked his mother why he wasn’t in school on a weekday and the grocery store dude who side-eyed him, then asked his mother if she had any other foster children.