Dear Mama

chapter one

I sat in class , today wasn't the day I wanted to sit in Mrs. Davis class .Every time I stare at the clock on the wall it felt like the time was dragging or should I say standing still. I felt like I was being punished or maybe I was nervous .Mrs Davis was having the whole class present their project what they wanted to bring to  Open Mic Night. Mrs Davis was planning a trip but only 3 people can go.Every year open mic night happen downtown mantan that place gets pack or spot get fill up quick everyone talks about open mic night ..Open mic night happen like twice  a year where all walks of writers poets go it's almost as famous as basketball,football or music ..This year it's taking place in the summer. Mrs Davis is having the whole class present like it's open mic night whoever gets best poems wins..they get to get published in chicken noodle soup magazine though the time is moving slow to me it's actually interesting watching my classmates each reading their poems we snap our fingers in the end and it's crazy how deep and talent each person is when they say their poem it's feel with love and hurt some humor Mrs Davis didn't give us a topic to write about she told us we can write whatever we want ..see we is actually in creative writing class Mrs Davis had us writing in a journal ever since the first day of semester she had us watch a movie call freedom writers Mrs Davis told us she was inspired from the movie . She thought that we too should keep a journal. Mrs Davis said good to write about our bottle up feelings so it's was okay to write about our life's just like the movie the notebook is suppose to stay in class we can write whatever we want in it and nobody is supposed to judge you and you only share what you want only person can read it's mrs Davis because it's also part big grade for overall class she doesn't grade it with a chart she just gives 100 if we write in it or not ..Most of us like the movie is from all part of city like Brooklyn ,Bronx ,queens ,staten island most of us write about the most extreme part of our lives. i swear the only reason why mrs Davis has extra box of tissue because when she reads our journals she cry's real tears..not that i ever caught her crying  but if you ever watch the movie freedom writers then you know our class room is like that and the stores they told is the stories we tell . i learn that a journal is like dairy and nobody is supposed to read it. i watch as last boy in front of me read  his about the love of basketball .my nerves was all sky rocketed, i felt small my heart was racing ,my palms was sweaty  i wanted to throw up i knew i was next and the sad part i felt like melting or disappearing usually i don't feel like this usually I'm the first person to raise my hand and read my poems when everyone else in the classroom was too shy to go first. I told myself i could but my mind was struck on what happen the night before ...
Portia mr.davis call me suddenly snapping from my thoughts. I looked up  the boy was done reading his and every one eyes was glue on me there was no sound or even side chatted because everyone and there mama knows that Portia was the queen who good at writing in Mr Davis class no one like to irrupted me when I spoke because I gave good stories and good poems and good street hood tea I always star stuck everyone when they heard my poem out loud some say my poems speaks deep down to the soul but not today in fact I felt dizzy and I wanted to throw up ..trying not to cry about what happen last night.
" Portia "Emily said  she sat next to me she tapped my shoulder   since i didnt answer mrs davis but look back down to my paper i just couldnt tell the truth about what happen to my project why i didnt had it it's your turn everyone waiting for you ....I looked up.
One kid in the back was like "what's taking her so long Portia hurry your ass up ,we got places to gooo..."
"shut up another girl said shut up Kevin,; her shit is always on point that girl got some good ass tea so relax".
"Yea mrs Davis said in between the small voices everyone loved Mrs Davis she like second mother to us she gave good advice she made sure we ate breakfast brought in treats and was reasonable with her assignments but somehow I don't think she would like what I would say I know mrs Williams had something good to write she always does ...let's be patient see what she has for us ..

But I didn't speak I just stare at the empty page I didn't write nothing ..they didn't know that I broke the rule that the reason why I couldn't because I couldn't tell them what
Happen last night ...
"Portia are you ok ?". Emily ask ..
"I don't had nothing to write about". i lied to myself. I yelled in a loud voice course i did..
Suddenly mrs Davis was at my desk " how come you didn't write nothing today or did you forget that you had 3 weeks to write your project that was due today"....
"I don't know i said i don't know what to write".
Mrs Williams I'm afraid this project was big part of your grade for the semester I'm afraid you had to get a zero and you might fail the quarter since i don't give tests.

Tears begin to blur my eyes
No that impossible Emily said i saw her last week working on this poem during lunch  it's call dear mama or something that something had to go wrong ..
Emily look at me "Portia tell me what happen did your mom...

"Yes i sob yes she found my journal and rip up my whole project I didn't care I cry in front of the whole class why would they care anyways they not at my crib or feeding me because she knew the poem was about her ..
"I'm sorry mrs Williams!".
Emily shook her head "Mrs Williams she had bomb as poem about her mama so her mama must got mad please give her another chance".
Suddenly the bell ring everyone rushed to get up and leave everyone loved Mrs Davis but most of us hated school we loved the sound of the bell ringing over the bell she yelled well I'm want to congratulate who participated in the project and I will be making phone call this summer to say who won to go to open mic night night I enjoy everyone poems I'm sad I can't take you all the rest enjoy your summer and Portia before I can get out the door can I had a word with you ..i watch the rest leave i still i had my journal in my hand what i went though last night i refuse to take home it's sad because this was the last day mrs. Davis class she let us take home our journals but not me I'm to scare and disgusted in my self for bringing it home I'm scare if my mom finds it again ...
Mrs Williams is okay if I'll leave this notebook with you u can read to your next class.
No I'm afraid not that be pointless in having a journal if everyone going to read it
Well i can't bring it home I'm already grounded..
I'm sorry that your mother read your journal ...why did you bring it home ?
Idk i i
"i can say your one of my top students your amazing what you write ,let's  make a deal..
What deal? Yes I said looking down to the floor
Before September I'm going to let you write a piece just like the project I assigned you then I'm going let you participate in the January open mic night ..
Why mrs Davis   ...what if I don't want to do it and what if I had nothing to write about
Portia your writing what everyone needs in there life and they need to hear from you  this is once in lifetime opportunity your going to be senior next year so your going apply for college if you do this open mic night might give you scholarship to any college you want .
I was smiling still staring down at the floor .."ok I do it" .
But I can't my notebook home.
Ok Mrs Davis how about this I take your phone number down and you take mines I'll take your notebook home and whenever the time is right for me to proofread your book or poem we can like plan a date to meet up I'm be emptying classroom and classroom is close for summer I really want you to tried for this audition you got so much talented and so many doors can open up for you
Okay I said deal
"we do few meet up in  September , I get you ready for next one
I hugged her she was life saver.
Does that mean I fail mrs Davis no she said I'm going to talk to your mom about my assignment and I'm give you c tho this big assignment I'm assume you telling the truth ..yes she doesn't think we should had diary in class and that I was wrong writing about her ..well I can you  not wrong writing your mind but sometimes word can hurt
Thanks you mrs Davis
I begin to grab the door ready to leave.
"Hey Portia".
"Yes mrs Davis I'm sure what ever you wrote about your mom was beautiful ..I remember when my daughter wrote me poem when I was having her brother at the hospital
Oh bless her heart she knew nothing about a city girl pain living in the Bronx trenches she was from California she knew this was a bad school but she never know truer pain of being 16 living in big city with very im mean very disrespectful family and daily struggles of living in the south part of the Bronx being 16 year old black girl with not good family support.