Culture Clash Read Online Free PDF Page A

shit to me?” I ask, rising from my seat, ready to march over and confront her head-on. Before I can, the door to our small room opens, cutting the tension in the air like a knife.
    “Hey, what’s going on in here? We can hear all of you on the stage,” Mrs. Sinclair says, coming in from the main theater to break up our growing disagreement. I thought the drama club was the one clique I could be a part of, and lose myself in a character on a regular basis. But it’s times like these I see I’ll always be the odd girl out.
    “What’s going on is that there are some serious racists up in this place and I can’t take it anymore,” I say, opening my bag of Hot Cheetos in my lap and stuffing my mouth with a handful of the spicy snack. They probably won’t help me calm down, but they will momentarily slow me down from talking smack in front of Mrs. Sinclair.
    “Oh, Jayd, calm down. You’re always so overdramatic about things. I’m sure it’s not all that bad,” she says, automatically taking their side. I keep eating and they keep talking.
    “Well, actually, Mrs. Sinclair, Jayd’s got a point,” Chance says, coming to my defense. He’s my boy even if he’s unaware that he should be offended, too because his birth mother is half black according to one of my dreams. “We do tend to choose plays that favor the majority. How about we try something different?”
    “Chance, I can’t talk about this now,” Mrs. Sinclair says, her hands waving above her frizzy head. Talk about overdramatic. She’s the one teaching me a thing or two. “Whatever you vote for is what we’re going to perform, end of discussion,” she says, taking the final word back to the stage with her. Seth and Matt look relieved and victorious, knowing the vote is unnecessary. Why do I even try?
    “Excuse me. I need some air,” I say, rising from my seat and taking my chips with me. Chance follows me out the door as the bell for fifth period rings, ending our meeting anyway.
    “Jayd, I’m sorry about those jerks,” he says, putting his hands on my shoulders and rubbing them softly. He gives great massages, or used to. Ever since I started dating Jeremy and he and Nellie hooked up, we don’t spend much time alone together anymore. I miss my friend. “I wouldn’t want to play a witch either.”
    “She’s not a witch. She’s a priestess,” I say, repeating the same rationale to Chance as I argued with Jeremy this past weekend.
    “Okay, priestess,” he says, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “But still, I would take more offense at playing that part of the role than being a slave. History is history.”
    “But it’s a biased view of history, Chance. And by the way, it’s captive, not slave,” I say. The late bell rings, signaling it’s time to get back inside.
    “Okay, Jayd, now you’re just getting too sensitive about this. I don’t know what you want me to say, but I’ve got your back either way it goes,” Chance says, going back into the crowded room ahead of me. Maybe he has a point. How can I get upset at the students when the adults are the ones enforcing the bull that they learn? Mrs. Sinclair didn’t even entertain my idea, and she dismissed my disapproval of Seth’s suggestion as another case of “black girl rage.”
    The teachers are the ones I should be mad at, not the dumb-ass students I have to put up with. Unfortunately, no matter how hot I get, there’s really no use in fighting the administration up here. Mrs. Bennett’s the only teacher-bitch I can deal with, and she has made the biased rules apparent enough for me. But no matter what, I refuse to allow this school to make me forget who I am and where I come from. And willingly playing the role of a slave is unacceptable to me when I know my ancestors and elders taught me better than that.

2
The Administration
    “They schools ain’t teachin’ us what we need to know to survive/
They schools don’t educate, all they teach the people is