The Year We Moved to Texas

(I wrote this after coming back from DPS)

Listen my children and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul…
Yea, Revere.
That guy
The one who ran halfway across the country in a single night
Only to shake innocent people out of their pleasant sleep
And frighten them into abandoned fear
By screaming out
“The British are coming! The British are coming!”
But not telling them what to do once the British came
And these little old men and their little old wives
Would peer out of their windows by candlelight
As Mr. Revere rode by, his mouth clearly in the middle of
Saying something important <>

At least that’s how the textbooks showed it to us
Nice, evenly spaced print
And that famous canvas by god-knows-who
That has been in every single history textbook to talk about the man

That was my fifth grade year
Mrs. Luciani was my teacher, for social studies at least
And I remember because my fourth grade brain
Couldn’t wrap around the fact that while some kids were being taught science by Mr. Creazzo
I would be taught social studies by Mrs. Luciani
Because last year the stupid, poor kids from downtown went with Mrs. Keifer to learn math, while the exceedingly bright, rich, white kids from College hill
Would be taught better math by Mrs. Wolbach
Math and Math
Not Science and Social Studies
And all my friends weren’t in my class that year <>

And that was the year I learned
That there are more permutations in an equation that involves friendship
Than in any other
That was the first year I said “fuck”
Not because I’d slammed the door on my hand or anything
But because it was written in my science textbook
“Fuck You” it said in fifth-grade scratchy pencil
And I was telling it in all my ten-year-old pride to my friend Karen and her friend Ashley
Who had said fuck a hundred times before and I knew it <>

That was the year I learned what being an organ donor meant
When Mrs. Luciani told us that she was an organ donor, and we should be too
And an organ donor is someone that gives away their intestines and stuff
when someone else needs them
I thought it meant that they killed you
to give your liver or kidneys to somebody who got into a motorcycle accident
And I couldn’t get around the injustice of it all
Why would they kill us, who don’t have anything wrong, to save people who are closer to death?
That was the first time I didn’t God
And that was the first time I realized that they don’t kill you to take your organs
They take ‘em only when you’re dead. <>

That was the year I was a safety patrol officer, helping kids cross the street with my orange flag
And weird reflective plastic badge belt thing
That was the year that I got mad at anyone for voting for Bob Dole instead of Bill Clinton
That was the year I thought Bob Dole might not be so bad, if Jack Kemp, his vice president, gave everybody Starter Jackets because he was a football player
and knew about those sorts of important things
I never got one

That was the year I got killer rollerblades that I only used once
That was the year I called in to Nickelodeon to pledge fifteen hours of community service
But I had no idea what that meant
I never did a single one

That was the year I learned Santa Clause isn’t real
Because I found the Power Rangers action figure my brother really wanted
Stuffed behind my mom’s shoes in her closet
And when he got it on Christmas day
I knew Santa couldn’t have done it
Although the tag said he did
And that was the year my sister said she heard reindeer hooves on the attic roof
And that was the year I questioned my own judgment

That was the year I learned who the Cranberries were
And though I thought Karen’s brother was a freak for liking them so much more than the Beatles
Although I thought the colors on their posters were pretty cool
That was the year I learned to say the alphabet as an entire word
That was the year I learned how to fold a hundred tissues if you’re sick
By pulling them out one by one from the box

That was the year we moved to Texas instead of Massachusetts
Because people spoke Spanish there, and Mommy would like it
Plus we would have a bigger house and pay less for it than in Massachusetts
Although all my friends, namely Heather and Nicola, told me I should get as far away from Texas as I could
Because Nikki Lamb was from Houston
And Nikki Lamb was a jerk
I didn’t even know where Texas was

That was the year Heidi Gunderlocks stopped being my friend
Because she preferred Ashley and Karen better
Not the hundred-time fuck Ashley, but the richer, prettier one that I had played American Girl dolls with the two previous years
And Karen, who had been my friend since Parson’s street
Since pre-school
She found better company than the likes of me

That was the year I shaved only one of my legs
I didn’t shave the other out of embarrassment
That was the year I stopped having bangs
And I parted them and haven’t been able to un-part them since
That was the year I began to take showers instead of baths
That was the year I stopped liking pink
That was the year I got to stay up till midnight on New Years

That was the year I realized Paul Revere was right
The only way people would notice you was if you were loud and obnoxious
And woke them up at night like the godless, peace-hating heathen you were
That was the year I realized I would get to travel through more states in five days
Than I ever had in my life

That was the year we moved to Texas