learning my own skin color
I was seven years old when I learned I wasn’t white
I was seven years old
And a student in Ms. Moran’s first grade class
My cheeks were pink and my nose turned up
My hands itched with the desire to create
To love to be to exist
And I was so convinced
So sure that everyone around me felt the same way
That they all woke up thirty minutes before their parents did
Because their moms didn’t like to wake up so early
Just to see the sunrise
But you liked holding your breath as the sun came up
And you liked seeing the stars disappear
So thirty minutes before your mom came downstairs
And yelled at you for being late to the first grade
You would be sat outside
The grass tickling your eager hands
As the sun blew all the stars out the atmosphere
You fancied yourself a bit of an artist
You drew your sun without sunglasses
Because you liked photorealism
And you could sing every opening song on disney channel
And you were seven years old
And you didn’t know you were different
You understood that not every kid there was like you
Most of them spoke perfect English
Most of them knew the answers to the questions your teacher asked
But you never noticed that
Not really
Not enough to feel divided
Not enough to notice
You weren’t like them
I was seven years old and it was seven am
And we were reciting the pledge
All of our eager hands over our fast beating hearts
Excited for the day because we had no reason not to be
And my school principal
Mr Shanks
Came on the overhead speakers
Good Morning
He said
And I agreed
For no reason in particular except that I was seven years old
And very content to be that way
For a moment
Before he started with the pledge
Started with
I pledge allegiance
And I did but I didn’t know why
I pledged allegiance to a flag
That meant nothing to me
To stars and stripes that didn’t claim me
That weren’t mine
But I lived on this soil
On this land of the free
And I agreed with my school principal
I pledge allegiance
I said
To the United States of America
And then
For reasons I didn’t yet understand
Because I was seven years old and it was only seven am
And I was so excited
And so eager
To be with all my friends
For reasons I still don’t understand
They all turned around
And they looked at me
And one kid who
Had a little too much energy
A little too much indignance for a seven year old at seven in the morning
He pointed a finger that
I knew he had just removed from his nose
He pointed that finger at me
And I didn’t get it
I thought maybe
My bangs were out of place or that
Maybe
I was floating
I had finally learned to fly like I had always wanted
I thought
Maybe
My hair had turned pink
To match my cheeks because
It was much colder in Texas in January
Than it ever got in Brazil
And so I was always blushing
I thought
Maybe
There was someone behind me
Someone cool like
Princess Jasmine from Aladdin or
Patrick from Spongebob
Or whoever else seven year old kids get excited to see
I didn’t think
That maybe
He was shocked to hear
Me
But he was
And he let me know it he pointed his finger right in my face
Burned a whole right between my eyes
And said
You speak english?
I was seven years old the first time I wanted to disappear
Wished the ground could open up
And swallow me whole
Wished the sun would blow me out the classroom
The same way it did with the stars in the morning sky
And I wished
For the rest of the year that I was in Ms. Moran’s first grade class
That I was different
That my hair wasn’t so dark that my eyebrows weren’t so bushy
That my tongue didn’t speak a different language
I was seven years old when I learned I wasn’t white
And I was seven years old the first time I wished I was