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Recess 1

Recess 1


Third grade
Ms. Greene
Handed me tightly wrapped Chinese candy 
And Starburst occasionally

A little girl
Fresh out of Haiti
Bullied
Teased, punched and kicked
Scared and scarred
Yet well mannered 

Blue she wore “going on a date?
Ms. Greene giggles and smiled

In my mind I wasn’t pretty  

 Still,
To her , I was her sweet, quiet, little lady 

In Ms. Greene’s class
I kneaded and molded Playdough in between my hands 
And was pleasantly amused 

Just as in the  second grade
Charles ,said
 “Yo momma so fat
When she sit on the rainbow
She popped Skittles”
I laughed so loud
I got in trouble
He was sitting behind me 
At the back of the class

Boys and girls in our class 
All got their hits in
Charles didn’t 

They dared me to stand up for myself 
But I couldn’t fight back for nothing
That pain was mine to bear
But shared by people across the world 

I hid it well
As it didn’t smell
Or reflect on the surface 
Seasoned was I at nine

In second grade
Things appeared good and well
But she wanted to
Hide from the little monsters 
That gave her hell
Many a school day
I was their punching bag
Deflated 
And reduced to a ball 
Tossed, kicked, hit
I can’t feel it now 
No traces remain
Just in my mind
They were young and still innocent
Their hands and feet were their only weapon

Monica, my Spanish friend, Karina’s cousin ,
Likened me to a boy
Inches away outside at recess one day
As if she were an angel delivering a message

On a trip to the circus
Karina , who sat next to me
On the cheese bus 
Gave  me a dollar 
In exchange for my fifty cent blue juice 
That I’d already sipped from
I had chocolate cupcakes with white filling 

I was becoming a little woman upstairs 
My sweater buttoned up to my face
Aren’t you hot? Asked Delphine ,
A snobby Haitian girl , hair done, new clothes worn 

Dayvonique   , a pretty  little black girl 
Who had everything said “Pay them no mine”
Our supermarket trip granted us lemonade

Boiled down cafeteria apples made into a sauce
My teacher, Ms.Goodwin
 stirred the pot
And sweetened our Macintosh 

I would watch her step out of the class
To converse with a male janitor 
All giggles and smiles 
Always made up
Pretty
Dressed nice 

But she never saw me 
And all the kids 
Who wanted me to disappear 



Marckincia Jean
Narrative
08/15/19

Copyright © Marckincia Jean | Year Posted 2019

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