Page 69 of I Can't Even Think Straight

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someone’s shoulder

to cry on before.

I recall how Granny

was my shoulder

to cry on recently.

Vass sobs and squeezes me tight.

I squeeze them back.

I rub their back.

“Ελα. Ε?ναι εντ?ξει, αγ?πη μου.

Ε?ναι εντ?ξει.”

Yiayia looks out

from the kitchen window,

but I don’t let go.

Yiayia and Bapou don’t say much,

even though we all speak the same languages.

If Yiayia and Bapou have opinions about us,

they don’t express them in Greek or English.

Thursday: Open Forum—Lunchtime—Mr. Ndour’s Classroom

“This is an open forum,” says Ms. Sarpong,

her hands wide like she wants to hug us all.

“How does race affect you

inside and outside school?”

“I don’t know, miss,” says Abdi skeptically.

“This feels like another detention to me.”

“Yeah, man!” “Exactly!” say Sam and Kwesi.

Mr. Ndour’s nostrils flare

as he struggles to contain his anger.

“The note I put on the system

for your form tutors

said this was voluntary.

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