Home > Punching the Air(5)

Punching the Air(5)
Author: Ibi Zoboi

fighting with his cousins, kids get hurtkids

They make stupid mistakes

What’s three days’ suspension supposed

to teach him?He’ll be home

all aloneI can’t take off work to watch him

Umi’s eyes were begging for something Mr. Figueroa

wasn’t about to give

Ms. Samuel wants us to spread our wings and fly

wants us to reach our full potential

College, it was all about college, so of course

she repeated, We have a zero-tolerance policy

and Umi looking at me like I did the worst thing

in the world and Lucas peeking into the office

looking at me like I did the best thing in the world

and Tanesha walking in and looking at me

just looking at meand me looking at her

and wishing so badthat I never

got into that fight with Shawn

 

 

Ocean


Ever since that day in the fifth grade when

I got suspended for three days

for fighting

Umi watched me so hard, her rules were so strict

that it felt like I’ve been trying to

breathe underwater

Every dumb shit I’ve ever done was me

fighting my way to the top

for some air

 

 

Clone


Ever since that day in the fifth grade

my teachers watched me so hard, so close

that I felt like I was trying to break out of prison

even though it was just school

Every dumb shit I did

they thought it was because of

trouble at home

an absent father

a tired mother

not enough books

not enough vegetables

not enough sleep

They believed those lies about me

and made themselves

a whole other boy

in their minds

and replaced me with him

 

 

Conversations with God


Why are you not on their side? I had asked Clyde

I never called him Mr. Richter

I ain’t a slave and he’s not my Mister

Master

Grandma calls me Master Amal

because she says

I am the master of my own destiny

I am the master of my own fate

I am the master of my body, mind, and spirit

So there was only room for one master

and Clyde ain’t it

(I never tell Grandma that on most days

I don’t feel like a master

I don’t feel like I’m the one in control)

These things that Grandma tells me

are like

a pan of mac and cheese on Sunday

a pair of socks for my birthday

a whisper in my ear that she’ll steal me away

to take me to her church

a tight hug around my waist and a kiss on my chin

because I’m way taller than her

These things that Grandma gives me are like

a butterscotch or peppermint candy from her purse

Sweet promises

that make me feel special

only for a little while

Then she goes home

to her church, to her Bible, to her knitting

to her bargain shopping at dollar stores

to her own

sweet

promises

 

 

I work for you, Amal

Only you, Clyde had said

So you’re in this for the money, I said

Amal— Umi interrupted

He gets to ask me all the questions

and I don’t get to ask him none? I said

Then he said, I’m in it for justice

And that’s when I knew for sure that

my lawyer speaks with two mouths

So when Clyde says, I’m sorry, Amal

We did all we could

after the officers handcuff me

I remember that he never really told me

he was on my side

 

 

African American


When I turned thirteen

Grandma told me she’d take me to

Africa

I told her Africa’s not a country

and she slapped my shoulder and

said I’m too smart for my own good

Umi said I should go to connect with my

Muslim brothers and sisters on the continent

and Grandma looked at her sideways

She said her church was organizing

a trip to Senegal and we’d go to someplace

called Goré Island and there’d be something

called the Door of No Return

It’s where slaves had to go through

to get on a ship sailing to America

It’s where African people lost everything

and stepped out into a future they didn’t know

So when the officers hold that door open

leading out of the courtroom

 

I think of that trip that never happened

and the Door of No Return

My life, my whole damn life

before that courtroom

before that trial

before that night

was like Africa

And this door leads to a slave ship

And maybe jailmaybe jail

isis America

 

 

Coming to America


The officer holding my arm

digs his nails into my skin

squeezing so tight

it feels as if he got hold

of a blood vessel

or something

because my heartmy heart

is suffocating

I clench my jaw and tighten every

muscle in my body

I want to be like steel, like iron

and I’m hoping

that I’m superhuman

 

 

The Entombment


The county jail behind the courtroom

is called the tombs

because it’s where the system

buries their dead

Clyde told me I won’t have a life sentence

and I won’t have a death sentence either

I guess this will be somewhere in between

like Jeremy Mathis

hanging in the middle

Dead to the world

but somewhere in our souls

we are both scratching at the walls

yelling to the sky

punching the air

to let everyone and everything know

that we are in here

still alive

The tombs is where we

wait for space in jail

hell

I’m sureI’m sure

The tombs is where we leave

our bodies so that our souls

can burn in an inferno

I’m sureI’m sure

This is what Jeremy Mathis’s mother

wants to believe

She said it herself

I hope he goes to hell

for what he did to my son

 

 

Inferno


There are other brothers

in here with me

Some my age

some older, some very old

And it’s as if all our roads

led to this point

not even crossing

a dead end

with nothing but

concrete walls

and metal bars

boxing us in

We nod at each other

It’s our way of saying

I see you, bro

We in here

And that’s where the

conversation ends

But we speak with

our hands

our eyes

our bodies

Head back

chin up

eyes wandering

but never landing

We take up space

without stepping over

invisible boundaries

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