Sometimes Sometimes I want to be white. White-- like new snow or angel wings. White-- like fresh milk or cumulous clouds. White-- like just-washed sheets dancing on the clothesline. White-- a full moon on a clear night. Fred "That''s dumb." My big brother, Fred, laughs at me. "Nobody''s that white, except maybe Dracula.
You wouldn''t use a white crayon to color a white person in a coloring book, would you?" "No. So why are they called white? Why not beige or peach?" Fred shakes his head. "Don''t know. They just are. So why do you want to be white?" "I said sometimes ." "Okay, okay, why do you want to be white sometimes ?" "Mama says I might have to do better than the smartest white person. She says I have to study harder. I have to shine brighter.
It''s not fair." Fred shrugs. "She tells me that, too. I think she just wants us to do our best. But, girl, you need to grow up. Life isn''t fair. Who said it was? And you better not let Ma and Pop hear you talking about wanting to be white." Mama says it''s sinful to want to be something you''re not.
Well, I don''t always, and I do want to shine, but sometimes, sometimes, I just want to be white. Cooper Fred''s real name is Fredrick. He was named after Grampa Dale, Daddy''s dad. Pap Cooper wanted to name me James, after him. But I was born a girl, so they gave me Pap''s last name: Cooper. Pap says he likes that even better. I love my name. Nobody else I know has it.
I love my name. I love my pap. And I know Pap loves me, too. He loves me just the way I am. So I would never tell him that, sometimes, I want to be white. White-- Like the kids at school. The Queen of Darkness All the kids call Mrs. Keating the Queen of Darkness.
Just my luck to be in fifth grade this year and get the meanest teacher in the school. Dag! Kids say she''ll whack your hand with a ruler if you make her mad, even if you didn''t mean to. If I can really shine, maybe they''ll let me skip the fifth grade and go straight on to sixth where I''d have Mrs. Hibbs, the Queen of Lightness, the Queen of Niceness. If only I could shine. Maxine Sometimes I wish I was my sister. Maxine is so pretty (everybody says so) and she can wear white pants and not get them dirty. She''s a wonder.
She taught me to read and write and add and subtract before I even started school. She used to make a plate with apple slices or peanut butter crackers to put beside our bed. I would have my snack while Mama sat on the top step and read us Uncle Wiggily stories or Daddy told us poems he knows by heart. Maxine would make sure I didn''t forget to brush my teeth again before we went to sleep. She''s fourteen now. She''s still nice, but she doesn''t play with me as much since she''s a teenager. When Fred became one, it was the same. I don''t want to be a teenager if it means I won''t want to play anymore.
Maybe I should be like Peter Pan and never grow up.