Our rooms. The kitchen. The bathrooms. Mama even makes us comb the yard for trash. On Thursday morning we grab pillows from all over the house and arrange them in a circle on the floor of the sunroom. At 9am the group starts to arrive. I watch from the front window as cars pull slowly into our long driveway and let kids out. Mama and Eve greet everyone at the door and then I usher people to the sunroom. Mr. John is the last to arrive with his son. And when we all sit down the sunroom is filled with about ten of us. I look around. No one speaks. It is so quiet. As if they hardly know each other. What kind of group is this?
“Good morning everyone!” Mr. John starts. “Let’s go around and introduce ourselves. Everyone say your name and one thing that you think makes you unique.”
Carl and his little sister Emma are up first. They are dedicated Christians but “We accept all of god’s people. No matter your faith or beliefs.” Carl says for the both of them.
Melody is next. She is frail. With vampire pale skin. Short brown hair and round glasses. She looks at her hands and tells us she’s obsessed with Pokémon Go and loves drawing.
Vienna and her two younger twin sisters Amy and Alyse follow. “I’m a dancer.” Vienna starts. She’s sitting a little outside of the circle stretching her long legs. “I dance ballet and modern with the New Mexico Youth Company. I’m planning to go to Juilliard by the time I’m sixteen. (I’m thirteen now.)” The twins sit next to her. They wear coordinated teal and purple floral rompers but Alyse has a short bob haircut and Amy wears a long ponytail.
“I’m in 3rd grade.” Amy starts. “And I think eating meat is murder. I’m going to be a veterinarian.”
“And I’m Alyse. I think bacon is delicious. I’m going to be a five-star chef.”
Then there is Huck. Mr. John’s son. Huck is in 7th grade but looks like he could be in high school. He has brown eyes and shaggy black hair that falls over his eyes. “My parents named me after the book The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. I love maps. I got fifth place in the National Geography Bee last year. This year I’m hoping to place in the top three.” He tells the group. His voice is calming. Soft. Like snow hitting the mountains.
After Huck a small boy named Jesse introduces himself. But I don’t hear anything he says. I’m still thinking about Huck’s voice. I want to know where he’s traveled. What his favorite word is. His favorite country. Does he look at maps the way I do? I wonder.
Eve’s voice snaps me out of my daydream. She’s sitting next to me in the circle. “I’m Eve. but I guess you guys know that already since I met most of you on your way in. I’m in 9th grade. I like to act.”
And then it is my turn. All eyes focus on me. Even Huck’s. And I feel my face get warm. “Makeda. But my friends call me Keda. I’m in 6th grade. I love jazz music. I wish I could sing like Billie Holiday.”
“Who’s he?” Melody asks.
“No—” I start to say but before I can finish Huck jumps in.
“Billie Holiday is a SHE. And a very famous blues and jazz singer from the 1940s. I saw a play about her in New York last summer.”
“Yes.” Mr. John chimes in. “We can listen to some of her songs later. But now it’s time to move on. Thanks for sharing everyone.”
After introductions Mr. John starts the lesson of the day. The group has been learning about the Civil Rights Movement. About Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X. About segregation in the South. Lunch counter sit-ins. Bus boycotts and marches. I’ve been reading all about the Civil Rights Movement in my book. In fact I’ve been writing and illustrating a whole magazine about the Little Rock Nine Emmett Till Martin Luther King Jr. and so on. I look around the room at the other kids who seem to be in awe or shock or disbelief. Don’t they know their American history?
“Dumping boiling coffee on people is not a very Christian thing to do.” Carl can’t contain himself any longer.
“Yeah.” Emma chimes in. “Couldn’t they just let the colored people eat at the lunch counter?”
“I think you mean African American.” Mr. John corrects her. “We don’t call them colored anymore. It’s just not correct.”
I hope nobody can tell that my ears are prickling hot. I can’t help it. I look around the room at all the eager faces. I feel like throwing up. I just want to yell I AM THEM even though I’m worried they don’t see me that way.
And then I catch Huck’s eyes. He smiles. And just like that. I soften. Huck looks at me as if we already know one another. Like he is studying my face. Memorizing it for later.