Open Mic by Mitali Perkins

Author:Mitali Perkins [Perkins, Mitali]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-7636-6719-1
Publisher: Candlewick Press
Published: 2013-09-09T04:00:00+00:00

With about thirty students per grade, Hobbs is the smallest boarding school in Vermont. Our demographics are just like the state’s. White, white, and white.

I guess that’s not fair. Technically Rebecca is “one-eighth German, three-eighths Sephardic-Jewish, and one-half Irish.” And Evan has enough Muskogee blood running through him to be a member of the Creek Nation. Still, I didn’t see anyone looking at them when we talked about the Holocaust or the Trail of Tears last year in World History. But let anyone mention Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. or Will Smith or even the slightly black-looking dude who trims Principal Greer’s prized rosebushes, and suddenly I’m the center of attention.

It got bad during Black History Month.

I own February at Hobbs.

Even the cafeteria lady gets in on it. Like: I’m sorry, Griffin. So sorry. First — well, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, do I now? — we had slavery. Next came those horrible Jim Crow laws. And then Hurricane Katrina — can you believe it? Here, take an extra slice of cake. It’s lemon. I’ve got watermelon and fried chicken and red Kool-Aid in back, too, just for you.

(Okay, she didn’t say all of that stuff. Not at the same time, anyway.)

But this afternoon in September, the cafeteria lady barely looks in my direction as she plops a scoop of lasagna onto my tray.

“Dude,” Evan says as I near the table. “I heard there’s twins in the new class. Twins!”

I slide into the chair beside him, bypassing the empty seat by Rebecca.

“They’re in my PE class,” Callie says. “Violet and Jasmine Harris. I think Coach is going to talk to them about playing volleyball.”

“Volleyball-playing twins.” Evan’s eyes make him look like a rat in search of cheese. “How do they look?”

Callie glances at me. “You know . . . they’re tall. And they have . . . brown eyes.”

Evan’s eyes dart around the room. “Yeah? And?”

“They’re um . . . um . . .”

I drop my fork on the tray, not expecting the clang of metal on plastic to ring so loudly. “They’re black.”

The table falls silent. Another rule at Hobbs — no one talks about race. Like last year’s mono outbreak and Principal Greer’s BO, we ignore it — pretend it doesn’t exist. Pretend it doesn’t matter. “I saw them in the library.” Rebecca picks at her salad — a sea of iceberg lettuce and creamy ranch dressing, with a few walnuts on top to make it reasonably healthy. “What makes you think they want to play volleyball?”

The question hangs in the air.

We remain statues.

Callie finally shifts. “They seemed interested in gym class.” She tugs at the necklace around her reddening neck. “And I think I overheard them saying something about how they used to play at their old school.”

The way she speaks, low and mumbling and more to the table than us, doesn’t do her any favors.

Now it’s Rebecca’s turn to glance in my direction. “Callie, don’t make stuff up.” They’ve been friends since nursery school, so she never holds back.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.