Punching the Air

by Ibi Zoboi

Amal Shahid to the leftJeremy Mathis to the right perfectly imbalanced because where I come from jail or death were the two options she handed to us because where he comes from the American Dream was the one option she handed to them So here we are, blind Lady Justice I see you, too

We see it over and over again.

On the day of my conviction I memorize my inmate number my crime my time On the day of my conviction I forget my school ID number my top three colleges my class schedule

So many brilliant futures end here.

Ms. Rinaldi taught AP Art History and for whatever reason Advanced Placement seemed to be only for the white kids at my school But there I was in my only AP class the only black kid in the room looking at slides of old paintings and it was boring as fuck Muted and dull colors Sad and pale rich white people doing nothing but looking sad So I’d pull up my hoodie and put my head down There, behind my closed lids I could paint me a world that made sense And there was that one time Ms. Rinaldi yanked my hoodie from off my head If you cannot pay attention in my class then you don’t deserve to be here she said through clenched teeth So I picked up my bag and walked out I failed the class She failed me

It is often the student being failed rather than doing the failing.

except as a punishment for crime