Hi, my name is I’m not supposed to tell people that. Mama and daddy said I
shouldn’t tell people anything, but I don’t get why not, because I like
people, and they seem to like me. They always smile at me when we pass them, pushing my own stroller. I think they think it’s cool how I get out and
push it myself. A lot of other kids still don’t like to walk. I
see them reaching up to the nice lady, so she’ll pick them up, and sometimes
she does it, and sometimes she doesn’t. As soon as I figured out how to work
these things under my butt, I do it all the time. Shh, don’t tell mama I
said butt. I’m not supposed to say that. There’s a lot of things I’m
not supposed to do that my parents don’t like. I don’t remember them,
though. They’re always yelling at me like I’m supposed to know something
already, but I don’t always. For like, there are kids in my class—well,
there were kids in my other class, but I don’t go to that class
anymore, ‘cause my parents took me out. I don’t think it’s a class, is it?
We learn things, but people call it something different, I don’t remember.
I’m not old enough for real class. I see it on TV, big kids sitting at
really tall desks, and they’re writing things down. I can use a pencil, but
I can’t, like, write a book, or something. I don’t know what they’re doing
all day. I can read books, and some other kids just look at the pictures,
but I like the letters. I like how each one means something, and when you
put them together, they can mean something else! Is that what people are doing
all day with their pencils, they’re writing the books I read? What was I
talking about again? Oh yeah, I was in a—preschool! That’s what they call
it! They said, you’re not in real school yet, this is just preschool,
which I don’t know what that means. It’s got the word school in it, so I
think it’s school. What was I saying?
Okay, so I was in a room, and there were lots of other kids in it, and then
my dad got real mad, and he said some things, and they said I couldn’t say
those things too, but I can’t remember what they were anyway. This was a
loooooooong time ago, like, many days. So they took me out of that room, and
now I think we drive to a different building, and there’s a different room,
but everybody looks like me. That’s what I noticed, there were other kids in
the other room who looked different. They had different skin colors, and I
saw one boy in a dress, and the other kids made fun of him for it. I didn’t
really know why it was funny. I don’t see that boy anymore, or the other
kids with other skin. I guess that’s fine. I don’t really know. Oh, that’s
what my daddy said, he said, don’t talk to those colored kids, and
don’t—hold on, I’m tryna ‘member. It was,
stay away from that faggity fag. I don’t know what that is, but since
I’m in a different room, I don’t think that happens anymore. I like to
learn. I mean, I like to have fun, but I like to learn too. There’s so many
things in the world, have you seen them? The other day, I was alone in the
house. Well, I wasn’t alone, but my daddy was gone, and my mama was asleep,
I think. I went into a room I never been in before. I saw my daddy go in
there, but he wasn’t there then, so I went in. There were all sorts of
things there that I didn’t know. I’ve never seen them before. There were
books, though, which is what the big kids write all the time. I pulled one
off the bottom shelf, and it was heavy, and I couldn’t read it, because the
words were really long, and it was hard. I’m back in here today, because I
think if I just keep trying, I will figure it out. But see, here there’s
something shiny on the table. It’s black, and really heavy too, and there’s
a hole, and what does this butt—
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