For Black Girls Like Me Read online

  Luminous (adjective)—giving off a glowing, reflected light

  Aperture (noun)—a hole, or space

  Jeer (verb)—to taunt or make fun of loudly

  Akin (adjective)—blood related, of common ancestry

  Cacophony (noun)—a brash, startling sound

  I get lost in the words. So lost that the library around me disappears. Then the squat adobe houses surrounding the library. Then the whole simmering city. Until I’m in a forest far away. Surrounded by redwoods and hanging eucalyptus.

  “Boo!” Eve pulls me out of my daydreaming. “It’s time to go nerd. Step away from the dictionary.” She walks away and out the front doors to Papa waiting in the parking lot.

  “I’m coming. Stop making such a cacophony.” I whisper-yell. But Eve is already gone.

  Back to School

  That first Monday back I don’t even try to make up with Katy and Amelia. I stick to myself and write songs at lunch. Amelia sneaks a look at me as she and the girls walk by to another table but I ignore her. If she wants to be like them that’s fine. I am done trying to fit in.

  The week is uneventful. I keep to myself. Except for the few times I get to do partner work with this boy Dylan in math class I barely talk to anyone. I walk home after school. I wander around the yard at sunset dreaming of being on my own. I collect rocks on the ditch and visit the bird farm a mile down the road. I sit in the sunroom and write songs about flying. I improvise a world where I am beautiful and strong.

  Letters from Lena

  By the next Monday all the 6th grade girls seem to have forgotten I exist. And I can’t decide if this is better or worse than the silent treatment. Katy has moved on to befriending a new girl named Monica who just transferred from another school over break. And Amelia has been fully absorbed into her crew. Katy doesn’t even bother to hunt me down during gym class. But that’s fine by me. I have a best friend. It’s only been two weeks since I sent Lena the notebook but I’m hoping it comes back to me soon.

  I make it through the day as the invisible girl. I get a 95 on my math quiz even though I barely studied for it. After school I walk home. I check the collection of mailboxes at the end of our street but ours is empty. I kick the dirt with my feet as I make my way up the driveway to our house. Eve stayed at school to earn some extra credit and Papa is already gone. Only Mama is home.

  I stand outside of the house for a moment. I let the afternoon sun beat down on my face. My neck. I look up at the clear blue sky and then back at our house. It stares back at me with its empty-eyed windows. I can already feel Mama’s cloudy mood hanging over it. When I get inside I check on Mama. But she is not in her room. She is not in the sunroom or the living room or the kitchen.

  “Hello?” I call out. But I am met with silence. I clench my teeth.

  I check the garage. Mama’s van sits quietly in the dark heat. I relax my jaw. She’s not gone. She’s just on a walk or something. She’ll be home soon.

  Back in the kitchen I notice a package on the table. “Lena!” I yell out loud. I tear it open. And out falls our notebook. I grab an apple from the counter and then run into the sunroom. Then I sit down and read each of her letters as fast as I can.

  Friday April 1st

  Dear K

  OMG I was too excited to get home from gymnastics tonight and get our notebook!!! I grabbed it from my dad who was sorting the mail on the kitchen table and then ran upstairs to my room. My dad was like “Not even a hello from you? How was your day?” And I was like “NOPE!” I tore the envelope open before I even could get my backpack and shoes off. Then I read all of your letters. Twice.

  Keda. What do you mean the houses in Albuquerque are made of mud? Is that safe? I can’t imagine living in a house like that. Sounds cool. Also. I thought of a new nickname for you #10bottlesaday. Because that’s how much lotion it sounds like you need in that desert. But you know we can be #ashyforlife together since our moms only want to buy us that nasty organic stuff that doesn’t even work on our skin. I’ll send you a bottle of Jergens if you send me one.

  ANYWAY.

  What IS the boy situation at El Rio? You write a lot about the girls at your new school. They sound evil. But more importantly please tell me about the boys. LOL. I know. I’m obsessed. But I dumped Damian. (That white boy with the big ears we met at the pool last summer?) We only went out (secretly) for a couple weeks. But then we were at the park and he pulled on the root of my braid and asked how it stayed in so well. Tried to tell me he thought it was ok to touch my hair because “I’m not like the other black girls” he’s met before. “You know.” He said: “You seem more white.” BOY BYE.

  I’M NOT WHITE. THAT’S JUST MY PARENTS.

  Why does nobody understand this? Mom’s calling me for dinner. More soon! So soon. I miss you.

  Your BFF

  L

  …

  Sunday April 3rd

  Dear K

  Today after church I told my parents I didn’t want to go anymore. They said I’m too young to make that decision for myself. It made me so mad that I burst into tears.

  It’s not that I don’t believe in god. You know I do. But I don’t think my parents understand that it’s not about that. You know when grown-ups say something to you they THINK is a compliment but it’s really not? That happens to me all the time at church. I can’t take it anymore. Like last week. Jax our youth group leader was telling us about all the “poor kids” in the third world and how we need to be grateful for what we have and give back to those in need. And then he looked right at me and said: “Right Lena? I’m sure you’re grateful that your parents decided to save you through adoption.” I got up and went to the bathroom so nobody would see how upset I was. It reminded me of how Katy made you feel when she called you “the whitest black girl.” Forget her. And forget Jax.

  Have you only been gone a month? It feels like forever. I have one more week of school before my Spring Break. Maybe I’ll get on a bus and come visit you? Just kidding. (Kinda.)

  Your BFF

  L

  …

  Tuesday April 5th

  Dear K

  I went outside and sat under our willow today after school. The leaves are starting to bud. It was weird without you. Are there willow trees in Albuquerque? Probably not. I am trying to make new friends at school. I mean. I’ve always been school friends with Rebecca Julie and Safiya. We’ve known each other since kindergarten. But we don’t hang out much outside of school. That was always you and me time.

  Can I tell you a secret? I was kind of jealous reading about Amelia at first. I thought maybe she might replace me. I know that’s dumb. Because. You know. I’m one of a kind! LOL. But it’s hard to think that you might find another best friend.

  Dunno. I am blah today. And reading about how Amelia turned on you made me extra mad. Katy is a monster. Stay away from her. She’s not worth your time. If she was a real friend she’d know you may not be good at basketball but you sing like a queen.

  Your BFF

  L

  …

  Wednesday April 6th

  Dear K

  Spring Break tomorrow! Wahoo! My mom is taking me to DC in the morning. Just for a few days. I even get to take a break from gymnastics. We’re going to the National Museum of African American History and Culture. My mom is so excited we finally got tickets. She has like a whole plan written out. I guess I’m excited too. I hear they have good food in the cafeteria. And that they have a whole exhibit about black athletes. I’m trying to be in a museum one day. You know what I’m saying? Right next to Simone Biles and Gabby Douglas. They also have an exhibit called “Musical Crossroads” all about black music and traditions. I told my mom we have to go to that one too so I can take pictures for you. You know they have some of Billie Holiday’s master records on display? I wish you could come with us.

  Anyway. Before we leave tomorrow I’m going to mail the notebook back to you. I know I haven’t even had it that long but I can’t wait
to get it back from you again. It should get to you in the next 3–4 days. WHEN YOU GET IT HURRY UP AND WRITE AND TELL ME EVERYTHING. I miss you SOOOOOO much. Don’t ever forget that I am your #ashyforlife bestie and I will fight Katy (with my words) to defend your honor. You are a queen. A QUEEN I tell you.

  Your BFF

  L

  I read Lena’s letters again. I giggle and let her words warm my chest. I am a queen. And then I feel a tightness in my ribs when I think about Lena alone. Under our willow. I look outside of the sunroom windows. I scan our dry and patchy lawn. The one gnarly cottonwood tree that provides shade over the back fence and ditch looks pathetic in comparison to the delicate lace arms of the willow tree. But before I can even start to cry I see a small movement in the backyard. Mama. She is sitting on a chair in the lawn. Close to the porch door. She stares at the ditch. A collection of tissues next to her in the grass creates a little mountain. And she picks and picks and picks at the dry skin on her naked heels. She does not see me. And I do not tell her I am here. I just stay in the sunroom. Holding on to Lena’s warm words. Watching Mama until she finally comes inside and starts dinner.

  In the Locker Room

  That Wednesday. After gym. Katy decides to talk to me again. She comes up to me and pokes at my belly and laughs. “You need to do some ab work.” I quickly put on my shirt and jeans and stuff my gym clothes into my bag. I know Katy is mad that her team lost the kickball game. Even madder that I was the one to score the final point. I may not be good at kicking the ball. At catching the ball. Or even understand all the rules of the game but I do know how to run. And that’s what I did. The bases loaded. Me on first. And when this kid Sammy kicked the ball all the way into the outfield I ran my butt off. Sliding into home base just before Katy. Who was stationed there as catcher. Could get me out.

  Now she’s being a sore loser and I’m going to be late for math. I try to leave the locker room but Katy blocks my way. Amelia Erica and Ashley are behind me. Still getting dressed but I feel their eyes glued on us.

  “Is this your hair?” Katy is in my face now. Her hands picking at my locs one by one.

  “Yeah. It’s mine.”

  “So you’re sure it’s not a weave?”

  “No. It’s my hair. And so what if it was a weave?”

  “How come you never wash it? I mean you always wear that plastic cap in the shower.”

  “I do wash it. At home. I just don’t need to wash it every day. My hair is different from yours.”

  “Ew gross.” I hear Erica giggle.

  Katy ignores her. But leans in. “You should really keep that to yourself.”

  “What?”

  “That you don’t shower every day.”

  “But that’s not what I said. I shower. I just don’t wash my hair every day.”

  “Whatever. Just trying to give you some advice. You don’t want everyone in school to think you’re a dirty nigger do you?”

  I hear Amelia suck in the air behind me. But then there is silence.

  “Oh you know what I mean. You just don’t want to be like those ghetto girls. Just a pro tip from me to you.” Katy says with a smile. Untangling her pointer finger from one of my locs before returning to her locker. “Besides. You want to smell good for Dylan don’t you? I see how you look at him in class. You think he’s cute.”

  I am frozen. And even though I just showered I feel like my skin is crawling.

  “Katy.” I hear Amelia say with a shaky voice. “You can’t say that word.”

  “Well I just did. Plus Keda’s cool. She’s not like other black people. She knows what I mean.”

  I don’t know what she means. I am sweating. My tongue feels swollen. I feel tears building in the corners of my eyes. Nobody has ever said that word to me. So I do the only thing I can do. I run. Out of the locker room. Down the hall. Until I make it to math. Then I wipe my face. And slip into the room.

  “Keda. You’re late. That’s a warning. Sit down please.” Mrs. K says. But I barely hear her or anything else for the rest of the day.

  Blackmail

  After school I rush out of the building hoping to avoid Katy but she’s waiting for me on the basketball courts. When she sees me she throws her arm around my shoulders and says: “Walk with me.”

  Maybe she is going to apologize? For a moment her arm around my shoulders feels light and warm. Not hard and unmoving like it did in the locker room.

  “Listen. We’re cool right?” She starts. “I mean. I was just joking. You’re not mad are you? Sometimes I just say stupid things. But it doesn’t mean anything.”

  “But it does.” I hear myself say. “It does. You know I’m black right?”

  “I mean I have eyes. But you’re not like regular black people. You’re the—”

  “The whitest black girl you know!” I say taking the words right out of her mouth. “I know! I know. I wish you’d stop saying that.”

  “Listen. Are you going to make this a bigger deal than it is?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean are you going to report me or something.”

  “I dunno.”

  “Well.” She starts her arm getting tighter around my neck. “I hope not. Because if you do I’ll tell the whole school who you like.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please let go of me.” I say. “I want to be alone.”

  “Promise me that you won’t say anything. Or else the whole school will know about your crush.”

  “Fine. Whatever. I won’t tell. Just leave me alone please.”

  “Sure thing. See ya friend.”

  “You’re not my friend.” I tell her.

  But Katy is already skipping off in the opposite direction. I wait for Eve to get out but remember she is staying after for drama club. So I walk home alone. Kicking the road as I go.

  I Do Have a Crush

  On Dylan. He has bright red hair and freckles all over his nose. He sits in front of me in math class and once during partner work he let me borrow a pencil. He has sea-green eyes and he likes to play pranks on other boys in our grade. This week he covered the toilets in the boys’ bathroom with Saran wrap. The week before that he Post-it bombed his friend Brian’s locker. He pretends like he’s dumb but he’s not. I watch him speed through math problems. When he gets his papers back they always have A’s on them. And he helps me with my work sometimes. Today he caught me staring at him and winked at me. I hid my face in my book for the rest of the class.

  I call Lena when I get home. And she picks up this time.

  “Keda!” She screams into the phone. “Where have you been all my life!”

  “In hell.” I joke. And we both laugh.

  I instantly feel calmer. My skin stops crawling and my heart slows down. It is so good to hear a familiar voice.

  “So.” She says. “Did you get my letters?!”

  “YES! I read them so fast. You dumped Damian? LOL. You were too good for him anyway.”

  “You know it. Anyway. How’s that Katy girl? Do I need to come fight her?”

  “Maybe.” I say. But I don’t want to talk about Katy. Or about what she said. “Lena. You know you won’t fight anybody.”

  “True. But you KNOW I can take down someone with my words. Easy.”

  “I know.”

  “And boys?” Lena can tell I want to move on. “Any boyfriend potential?”

  “Maybe. I guess.”

  “You guess? Come on Keda. Tell me. Tell me now.”

  It feels good to think about something other than what happened in the locker room. It’s embarrassing. I normally tell Lena everything. But this feels different. Like if I speak it out loud it’s somehow more real. So I tell Lena all about Dylan instead. Every small detail about his freckles and pranks and how he leans back in his desk chair and laughs. I tell her about the Friday night mixer coming up. About how I wish he’d ask me.

  “Well why don’t you ask him?” She interrupts.

  “What if he says no?�
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  “Well then he’s not worth your time.”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure if he likes girls like … us. You know?” I say.

  “Oh you mean he’s racist? Well then if that’s true he’s definitely not worth your time. But I bet he thinks you’re cute. He winked at you remember? He gave you HIS pencil. Those seem like signs to me.”

  “I dunno.”

  We start talking about something else. By the time we finish catching up it’s time for dinner. Lena and I say goodbye and promise to talk again soon. I don’t tell her about the word I was called. I just want to pretend it never happened.

  There Are Terrible Songs in Me

  Songs buried in the ditch of my mind. Songs tangled in my throat. Forgotten melodies. I am sleepless again. So I look up the word that night in my dictionary. I am looking for a way out of it. I know the word. But I have never been the word. Now the gg so close together on the page looks like bars I cannot get my arms through.

  Nigger (noun)

  An offensive word for a black person

  A dark-skinned person

  A person who is part of a people who are systematically discriminated against and receive unfair treatment

  I know I am not stupid. That I am not dirty. That I wash myself every day. That my skin needs the lotion I slather on each morning greasing my elbows the back of my knees. “This is me. Me.” I whisper into the dark of my room but there are terrible songs in me. Songs full of minor chords and shattering notes. When I open my mouth I am ashamed of my own voice breaking in half. I am ashamed of the way I smell. Like an overripe piece of fruit. I curl into the nest of my bed. I curl and curl and curl. Trying to defend myself against the desert cold that seems to have seeped in through every crack in my room.