I Have a Dream

I Have A Dream

By Margaret Holland.

Dedicated to my Dad

I love you, get well soon

Maple Leaf Writing Project

Brattleboro, VT

Copyright 2014

I live in Memphis and read lots of books. My dad and mom used to read me Martin Luther King Jr. books all the time from the local library. My dad used to say 'I love you' in sign language and kiss me with a fishy face. I miss my dad. I am just like him mom says. I want him back.

I'm the shortest out of all of them. My mom says good things come in small packages, but how is that going to help me with who I am? I am African American and the only one in our class. The only one in the upstairs of our school. I honestly don't know who I am at this point, mostly because people call me things too much and I believe it. Like when they say “shortstop” to me when we play kickball. I get confused and don't know how to react. I do know that my name is Reina and I am 11 years old and go to Canton Central School. I make the best of myself but that doesn't really work. Kids make fun of me and try to hurt all of me with their words.

I’m ready for school now and I am wearing my favorite outfit. My dad bought it for me when he walked with Martin Luther King. Then my dad got shot when he went back out the store for food. My mom told me this when I was 6 and that he was just like me; shortest, youngest, and African American. Every kid, at least as my mom told me, was racist to him at school. He got shot and died because he stood up for his rights. I really believed in my dad. I thought he could've become something so much more than a human. Maybe a mega-human. Or an epic superhero. But no. No one wants african americans to live their dream. But I have a dream! And I am going to live it! I'm on my way to school now after yummy plate-sized pancakes. My dream is to walk with Martin Luther King just like my dad. I am not in the mood for another day of horror and criticism. Why don't people ever like you for who you are? Whatever the answer to that question is... I am not changing!

I’m at school now and I see Jayden Smith walking with her friends. They bully me every day. It's always during social studies too. Maybe because I always get A's and they are jealous. Or maybe they think that Mrs. Winton doesn't notice or care. But anyway, I'm still thinking about possibly walking with Martin Luther King Jr. But how? I don't even know if I have enough courage to go out there and believe in what I want. I want to stop bullying and racism, just like my dad. I want to know how my dad did it. Well I have to get to homeroom. I don’t remember if Jayden’s in my class because the weekend just passed and I always ignore her. She always gets me mad. Does everybody have a weakness? I mean like you know how people talk about a friend of their's and it makes them sad or mad then the bully gets pleasure from their pain? Like that! If I do, I wonder what it is. It might be being bullied about my dad. Although nobody knows about my dad being dead because I moved to a new school. People kept asking and asking and I got sad about it. Well I think it will hurt more if people knew here because they will probably say it's stupid how he died and just bully me 10x more. Sometimes I wish I could just tell somebody about it though. Do I have Kalia to trust?

“Hey LOSER! Mommy didn't pack you brownies for me to steal today?” Brandon says walking past me. He’s one of Jayden’s friends. She has so many, but I am never going to get jealous. I’m happy with the friends I have. Well the friend.

I don't answer as I run across the street to my school. I live behind the white school and go from the back and run to my school. Those white kids always gotta be teasin' me with all the chances they get. It seems like it's only me.

“What's up shortstop?” yells Jayden from the back of me.

I act like I don't notice her, and hang out with a girl. Her name is Kalia. I don't know if she's my friend or purposely hangs out with me to find information about me and tell the school. She has braces and glasses and gets teased too. I stand up for her but can never do it for myself. Well she's shy and doesn't like to talk. I guess I’m not shy… but I just don’t have enough confidence for myself, like I’m scared they will have something better to say and I will be really embarrassed. That’s probably what will happen too. Kalia is there for me all the time, I just am unsure about her. She's nice and all, it's just she moved here this year from New Jersey.

At my school we are all family knowing we all have felt racism before. We only have one white man in our school but rarely comes to our school. He’s from the white school. His name is Chris Richard. He comes over to our school to keep things in order. Apparently, we can't have a principal because we are black. People spread rumors saying he's fired a teacher at a staff meeting for no reason. He is always mean to us, obviously because we’re black. Our teacher always does mean faces to him when we are in back of him in the hall. Well I have to go to class with Kalia.

“Okay class, tomorrow we have a test on Martin Luther King Jr. I think we have learned enough about him so, you should be ready!” Mrs. Brown told us.

“Mrs. Brown! Mrs. Brown!” Kalia starts to shout.

“Yes my dear...” Mrs. Brown says with a puzzled face.

“Does everyone know that Dr. King is coming up April 3rd in the Mason Temple,” Kalia says with excitement.

“Oh yes! I heard about that. I am going to be going. Hmm, I have an idea! The first person done with their test tomorrow and have all correct answers will go with me. I have reservations in the front seat of the auditorium. Oh and we have a half day tomorrow!” says Mrs. Brown.

The teacher keeps talking while I’m just thinking of seeing Martin Luther King and hopefully standing next to him just like my dad. The bell rings really loud, and everybody starts to run in the halls. I walk outside and see the students from the white school playing tag. I want to walk the other way without engaging in conflict, but I can’t miss the bus because my mom doesn’t have a car. So I run past them losing breath as I hear them shout “Slowpoke! Shortstop! Don’t have an asthma attack!” I just ignore it as my eyes get watery. But I will not let it get to me! I hurry onto the bus and remember that Kalia is walking today because she moved close to the school. I am going to go to the library. I wait until the brothers, and sisters, and friends get off the bus. Then I have to go all the way to the other end of town. Sometimes it gets annoying because school ends at 2:30 p.m. and I get home at like 3:45 p.m. It’s such a long wait. I start to stare out my window and dream about seeing my dad right there, right there next to Martin Luther King Jr.!

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I walk in and see my mom at the sewing machine. There must be something happening.

“What’s this for mom,” I ask.

“Your teacher called notifying that tomorrow’s a half day and I want you to wear something nice!” my mom explains.

“Okay?” I say with confusion. “But what about the Martin Luther King thing?! Did she mention that? I really want to go because daddy did and it will be so much fun to see him!” I exclaim.

“About that, I don’t want you to go…” my mom explains with guilt.

Not go? Not go! What is my mom thinking?! I have to go, I have to! I can’t believe it… doesn’t my mom know I want to go?! She has to!!! Ugh!

I am so mad that I stomp up the stairs. After, I felt bad but at this moment I just want to go to Dr. King’s speech, but no! I can’t.

“Honey!” my mom calls up the stairs.”I need to talk you.”

“No mom, I need to talk to you. Sorry I stomped up and got mad at you it’s just I want to be like dad. I want to stand up for what my dad tried to do. If I die or not!” I exclaim.

“Honey, honey. I know you’re sad about dad but sometimes you can’t frown because it’s over and he stood up for his rights, and smile because it happened,” my mother explains.

I smile at my mom and let her know I love her by giving her a BIG hug! I start walking up the stairs feeling as if I could fly straight to wherever I want. I just drift past the bathroom into my room and shut the door.

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“Beep! Beep! Beep!” My alarm clock goes off for about 2 minutes until I actually turn it off.

“Honey,” my mom says as she opens the door. “Time to get ready for school,” she looks at me with disappointment.

“Sorry mother. I was just waking up,” I tell her.

My mom rolls her eyes and shuts the door. I now realize I didn’t have any dinner last night.So I hurry and get dressed and run down stairs.

“Mom! Mom! I finished the test last night!” I exclaim.

“Finish or not, you aren’t going,” my mom says with anger.

“But why? It’s my dream to go big and grow big, I just want to be able to live my dream. Didn’t you have any dreams when you were a kid?! And you obviously can’t help because all you care about is me being safe. If dad was still alive he would actually care and help me!” I yell.

Before I run out I turn around and see my mother’s face. Looking down, possibly thinking. Maybe she did have dreams too.

Next thing I know I see Kalia coming around the corner. She looks concerned.

“What was that about?” Kalia wonders.

“Um, nothing. What are you talking about?” I ask with innocence.

“There must be something Reina, I heard you um, yelling at your mom,” Kalia says, seeming guilty about the subject.

“Well, can I trust you?” I say still walking.

“Of course you can. I still don’t understand why you always seem so, unsure around me. Like I am not a real friend to you. I am here for you Reina. You can trust me with anything!” Kalia responds straight forward.

Joy leaps though my heart. A real friend I can trust is almost the happiest feeling. Like when I found out that my dad got me a new book for him to read to me at night. Kalia is now here for me. I will tell her my secret, she deserves to hear the truth.

“Well… it’s a deep, deep secret. You can’t tell- I know you won’t tell. My dad died when I was younger, because he was shot when he made a speech with Martin Luther King jr. That’s why I want to do the same thing, in memory of him,” I explain.

“Oh my gosh! I didn’t even know. And all this long you were keeping this from me. I should’ve asked before. I’m so, so, so sorry Kalia,” she says.

“It’s alright. Thanks for supporting me though. But I think the bus is going to be coming in a minute!”

“YEAH! The bus is here!!” everyone calls. We get on the bus. I don’t like how it says “Black Bus” on it. It’s really specific. Do we have to be specific about people: black, white, yellow, red. Why colors? Why can’t we just be people?!

I sit on the bus alone until Kalia sits next to me. She smiles and I smile back, then looking the other way out the window. We drive past the white bus stop, and they throw things at the bus. I just turn to Kalia and she frowns. This might be the weirdest bus ride I’ve ever been on. I yawn then notice everything get loud again.

I get back on the bus and run to my seat and the bus driver already has started to move. We arrive at the school and we run inside. I say thank you to the bus driver as I get off. Good thing school hasn’t started, but the white students are already inside, hmm.

“Good morning everybody! I saw lots of tests on my desk before the bell rang. I guess lots of you really want to see Martin Luther King Jr. today. Well good news, I know who it is but I can’t tell until we do this worksheet,” Mrs Brown explains.

2x40= _____ 11+4356=_____ I start to answer them, realizing they’re really easy.

“Done!” I say quietly, but loud enough for Mrs. Brown to hear. Everybody looks at me and I get a little nervous.

“Reina, can I see you?” Mrs. Brown asks after she looks at my paper.

I push my desk out a little, and walk to her.

“You got all the answers right, so you will be attending me at the Martin Luther King ceremony. This can’t be happening, no! Wait YES! I can’t wait.

I walk into the math classroom and everyones looking at me, puzzled. I just smile and turn around to sit. One hour passes by from doing math and snack and then time to leave. I grab my stuff and ask Mrs. Brown if I can call my mom. She says I can, that’s a good thing.

“Mom, I got all the questions right on the test, can I go to the ceremony please?” I ask.

“You have been very rude to me lately. Give me reasons why I should let you go?” My mom responds.

“I was wrong mom, I shouldn’t have been rude and yelled at you. I know you won’t be like my dad, and I know he did good things. But I really should go. I want to live my dream really badly. It’s everything to me. Please mom?” I respond with good reasons.

“Wow Reina! I didn’t realize how much you actually wanted this. It’s not your fault. I should have listened to you, I love you sweety. To answer your question, yes I did and still habe dreams. My dream now is for you to live yours. You can go honey!” my mother says then hangs up.

I never thought my mom would actually let me go because I have been so rude to her. I guess sorry is the answer.

“I can go!” I say to Mrs. Brown.

She smiles and starts to hurry down the hall. We get into her car and I buckle up. She puts on the radio and I listen to the man talking about the ceremony. I get really excited.

We arrive there and I see lots and lots of people. I wonder if my mom came.

Everyone’s talking and I can’t hear anything. I hear the microphone get turned on. Martin Luther King comes out and starts talking. “Thank you very kindly, my friends.” I listen to what he’s saying and get very deep about race, and segregation. A bunch of white folks start to shout “No! Nobody cares!” and very rude words that I shouldn’t hear. “As you know, if I were standing at the beginning of time, with the possibility of general and panoramic view of the whole human history up to now,” Martin keeps talking. Some of the people start to cry and I get teary eyed, but I stay strong. I really understand what he’s saying. When it’s over, I was really excited and happy to have seen Martin Luther King jr. up close! He’s so much different from hearing him on the radio, of course.

I leave smiling to all people, and Martin looks at me and smiles. I feel so great inside.

I find my mom outside, and hug her. She came! She’s crying with tears of joy. I wave to Mrs. Brown and she says thank you.

“Honey, your dad always wanted you to come here when you were just a baby. He’s probably so happy for you. He’d want you to have done that,” says my mom.

I smile and then look at the ground. Thanks dad, I love you!

We walk home and eat spaghetti with texas toast. Oooh, my favorite! We turn on the radio and smile proudly like we’ve seen the most famous person. I know it too.

“Martin Luther King Jr., one of our most favorite people of all, has been dedicated to all of us. To everyone. His dreams long known now, and will always be true. We loved him, but sometimes things happen for a reason, but I don’t know if this is one of them. Rest in peace Martin! We all love you!!!”

My mom shuts off the radio, starting to cry and I run to hug my mom. I feel so bad. I can’t believe it. He’s gone.

Martin Luther King was amazing. Although I haven’t done the things my dad did, I will still remember the memories of my dad. I could’ve met him, but I didn’t. But all that matters is I love my dad, and Martin Luther King, he loved us and will always no matter what.