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After a series of unsatisfactory report cards, my mother had begun to think that what many of my teachers were telling her was correct: I might have a learning disability. she remembered this as she listened to me reciting lyrics like I'd written them myself.
"I don't know, not that long"
"How long have you known that song?"
"well, your grades obviously aren't bad because you cant pick this stuff up or because you are stupid, you are just not working hard enough"
My English teacher, Mrs Downs one day told me that it didn´t matter to her if i showed up because the class ran smoother when i wasn´t there.
"Dont ask, don't tell"
When I returned home later that day, Shani was sitting on the couch in the living room; Shani, Latishia and a Puerto Rican girl named Ingrid were jumping the rope outside the house. A dispute broke out, words were exchanged, and Shani found herself on the receiving end of a punch to the nose.
When we rolled up to her house, Latisha was sitting on the front steps with her older brother
"Little girl, don't you ever touch her again. I don't know who you think you are, but you are really messing with the wrong one"
" And let me tell you, if I ever hear about you touching her again, the last thing you will have to worry about is a bloody nose"
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