Mrs. Potter’s Journal Entry after the Lee girls’ first day at school.

Two new girls showed up at school today. Two mixed girls actually. Quite a rough day for them I imagine—the kids at this school can be ruthless when it comes to just about anything. Mixed race or not, new kids get a hard time at their age. The younger one not quite looking black certainly won’t make it easier on her. I tried at least for today to not single her out by trying to help her, but boy is she a bit of a misfit. She could barely even whimper the words “Black is Beautiful.” As if she never even realized that belonged to the black race. The kids wouldn’t give her slack for learning. They all act as if they weren’t quavering the first time they were asked to say it. Mixed race or not, the first time we ask these kids to stand up and profess their race, it’s confusing to them—kids don’t give it much thought until we tell them about it. But that’s our duty, to tell them in a constructive way before they hear from the rest of society all the sick negativity surrounding our race.

Though, I suppose it must be particularly confusing to this child, Birdie. How is she to tell to which race she belongs if she looks like neither? Funny that after centuries of the whitest of us being forced to be black that these children won’t let a little half-black girl be black like the rest of them.

Kids though, they forget, and they move on. Once the other kids understand that she’s black even if she doesn’t look like them, they’ll get over it and call her black. It’s the adults in this country that will give these kids a hard time for the rest of their lives. It’s the black adults that won’t accept Birdie as black once as she gets older. It’s the white adults that won’t accept Birdie as white either.

I caught wind after school from the other teachers that their parents are divorced. Hopefully they’re on good terms at least. Messed up family is the last childhood trauma these kids will need on their laundry list. We all have our bag of childhood trauma’s to get over, but these girls, they’ll have all of any of ours and more.

Hopefully they pay close attention in class. I try to tell stories. Stories of the figures these children can look to for guidance when no one will be their guide in reality. People who found their values and fought for them in the face of oppression. Regardless of who or what will be the obstacles, there is so much to learn in the character of these figures, for God knows we all face a different journey.

I just hope these girls—all the children really—learn how to give themselves strength in positive ways rather than crumbling under their own weak crutches that gets them through a few days.

Quote (p. 65): “But I did feel different—more conscious of my body as a toy, and of the ways I could use it to disappear into the world around me.”