Once Upon A Time: “On the morning of my ninth birthday, my mom told me I could have a party”

On the morning of my ninth birthday, my mom told me I could have a party. She said: ‘Invite all your friends.’ But there weren’t any friends.

I went around the block, looking for kids to invite. It’s like: ‘How do I get these kids to like me?’ I didn’t look like anyone else in my neighborhood. I didn’t even look like my own family. My father was black Haitian.

My mother was mixed Dominican. But I looked white—like my grandmother. I’d get beaten up at school. Sometimes I’d get beaten up when I walked out my front door.

Both my parents worked in factories, and all day long I’d sit in the apartment alone. I’d stare out the window at the other kids skateboarding. Every kid on my block had a skateboard.

I thought maybe, if I could just get a skateboard, I’d be accepted. Then one day my mother finally got me a skateboard. It was this cheap, plastic thing. The wheels were too slow.

They’d make this loud whirring noise, and the board would shake, and my legs would feel numb. All the other kids would laugh at me. It’s like: ‘What the fuck?’ Can’t we just hang out?’

No, we can’t. Because I didn’t have the right skateboard. My entire life felt like that stupid skateboard. I was always behind: with English, with friends, with grades, with clothes– everything. Until one day my mom brought home a second-hand piano from the Salvation Army.

YOU MAY ALSO READ: Alleged 100 billion naira loot : Ayade, PDP lock horns over facts and figures

She viewed the piano as a pathway to being a certain type of person. She’d grown up in a colonized country. As a little girl she’d watch the wealthy people get dressed, and go to parties, and sing, and dance.

That was the fairy tale for her. On the side she cleaned houses, but only artists’ homes. She’d tell them: ‘Don’t pay me. Give my son lessons.’ So they did. I was getting piano lessons from people who went to Juilliard.

And I was good at it. On weekends I’d practice so much that I’d forget to eat. It’s all I wanted to do. Keep your math, keep your English, keep your skateboard. I have this new thing now.

And it’s better than all those other things. Something happens to me when I sit down at a piano. I can hear things. I know exactly what I want. And if I can’t get it, I go crazy. I can’t stop. I won’t stop until it’s perfect.”

Source: IG Humans of New York

Africa Informants

Leave a Reply