Taneesha
Never Disparaging by M.
LaVora Perry Wisdom Publications, September 2008 Mailing
List A
FRIEND
Chapter One
GUARANTEED PUBLIC HUMILIATION
There I was, scribbling, “Taneesha Bey-Ross, Monday, January 7,
2008,” across the top of a fresh page in my writing notebook, without a
clue that chaos was just minutes away. I looked through a classroom window
at the freezing outside—cloudy, like it was all the time lately, with
snow on the ground and everything. But you’d never have known it in Room
509 of North Cleveland’s
I looked around at
the astronomy sculptures, geometry mobiles, and A and B+
papers that decorated the walls, shelves, and ceiling. With a leg
stretched out, I silently bounced a rubber heel on the blue-grey, carpet,
the kind for inside and outside, and breathed in its new-car smell. Glad
to be back in 509.
It was the first day of school after Winter Break and I’d
actually wanted to get back to
Hunter. The break had been getting boring. Nothing to do.
So there I sat, scribbling with one hand and tangling the
fingers of the other in the nappy tip of one of my twisty African locks.
“And so, fifth graders—”
Trim Mr. Alvarez, who had the exact same tan as the oat flakes I’d had
for breakfast over three hours ago, pointed to the list of words he’d
written on the chalkboard:
GRATITUDE, COMPASSION, PERSEVERANCE, COURAGE, WISDOM, CHEERFULNESS.
“These are a just a few key character traits that good leaders possess.
Keep them in mind when you consider who to nominate for class officers in
our coming election.”
©Copyright M. LaVora Perry. All
rights reserved.
Cover illustration by Floyd
Cooper.
I
couldn’t help thinking how Mr. Alvarez was always so sharp. That day,
his short, coal-black hair looked especially shiny. Like he’d Vaselined
it up or something. Neatly combed, of course. He had on this crisp, beige
shirt, a dark blue necktie and matching suit-pants. The crease in his
pants could have sliced a hunk of cold cheddar cheese.
Reviews
Table
of Contents
Author
Interview
Home