Mrs. Parker Quotes in Piecing Me Together
But girls like me, with coal skin and hula-hoop hips, whose mommas barely make enough money to keep food in the house, have to take opportunities every chance we get.
Of everything Mrs. Parker has signed me up for this one means the most. This time it’s not a program offering something I need, but it’s about what I can give.
“We want to be as proactive as possible, and you know, well, statistics tell us that young people with your set of circumstances are, well, at risk for certain things, and we’d like to help you navigate through those circumstances.”
“I’d like you to thoroughly look over the information and consider it. This is a good opportunity for you.”
That word shadows me. Follows me like a stray cat.
“It makes me feel like I’m learning a secret code or something. I don’t know. It’s powerful.”
“Powerful? Really?”
“Yes, all language is. That’s what you used to tell me.”
Dad puts his fork down. Leans back in his chair. “Me? I told you that?”
“Yes, when I was little. When it was story time and I didn’t want to stop playing to go read and you would tell me I ought to take every chance I get to open a book because it was once illegal to teach a black person how to read,” I remind him.
Mrs. Parker Quotes in Piecing Me Together
But girls like me, with coal skin and hula-hoop hips, whose mommas barely make enough money to keep food in the house, have to take opportunities every chance we get.
Of everything Mrs. Parker has signed me up for this one means the most. This time it’s not a program offering something I need, but it’s about what I can give.
“We want to be as proactive as possible, and you know, well, statistics tell us that young people with your set of circumstances are, well, at risk for certain things, and we’d like to help you navigate through those circumstances.”
“I’d like you to thoroughly look over the information and consider it. This is a good opportunity for you.”
That word shadows me. Follows me like a stray cat.
“It makes me feel like I’m learning a secret code or something. I don’t know. It’s powerful.”
“Powerful? Really?”
“Yes, all language is. That’s what you used to tell me.”
Dad puts his fork down. Leans back in his chair. “Me? I told you that?”
“Yes, when I was little. When it was story time and I didn’t want to stop playing to go read and you would tell me I ought to take every chance I get to open a book because it was once illegal to teach a black person how to read,” I remind him.
