New Neighborhood Transitions

Hey, my name is Ivory. A lot of interesting things have happened in my 17 years of living, but when I was about 10, things got interesting.

            When I moved to 42^nd and Campbell I was mad because I didn’t want to move, I preferred my old neighborhood and friends. Anyways, my mom, her husband and I moved to the southwest side of Chicago. I was surrounded by people I didn’t know. I was a very friendly and kind little girl, and thought it would be a piece of cake to make new friends. Boy was I wrong.

            I started my first day of school the next day. I walked into my new class and all of the kids kept whispering. I ignored them, and walked to the teacher’s desk. “Are you the new student?” The teacher asked. “Yes ma’am, where can I sit?” She pointed to an empty desk next to this girl named Samantha. The other kids continued whispering. I introduced myself to Samantha.

            “Hi, I’m Ivory. Ms. Filakowski already told me your name was Samantha?” She looked at me and smiled. “Yes it is, nice to meet you. Do you want to sit with me in lunch?” I shook my head yes and smiled. I was happy that I’d made a new friend. As the day went on, I became irritated. All the kids except for Samantha were so racist. One boy even called me an N-Head! Who does that? I decided not to let it get to me.  I’d dealt with racism before, so it wasn’t a big deal to me.

            Anyway, Sam and I were calling each other best friends ever since my second day at my new school, and she’d invited me to her birthday party while we were in lunch. I knew my mom would let me go, so after school I called her from Sam’s cell phone. She was so lucky; I didn’t even own a house phone! However, both my mom and step dad had cell phones. What did I have? I had my thumb and pinky to make a pretend phone. When I spoke to my mom she told me I could go, so we jumped up and down squealing and screaming.

            Two days later, my mom had walked me to Sam’s house. I’d bought her ten different nail polishes, mascara, eye liner, and an Aeropostale outfit. Before we walked into Sam’s house, I looked at my mom. “What?!” I gave her a pleading look. “Mom, please don’t walk me all the way in, it’s not cool!” She looked at me as if I had snakes for hair. “Child, I don’t know this lady! I’m coming in or we’re going home.” I huffed and puffed and agreed. I was glad I did though, because I ended up needing her.

            When we walked in, Sam’s mom greeted us at the door. She led me to Sam’s room and her and my mom walked to the kitchen. When I opened Sam’s bedroom door, I saw the twins Layla and Fatima. I stared hard at the twins like I wanted to punch them. They were always being mean, they were always calling me names because I was African American, and they thought they were better because they were Hispanic. Samantha knew I had an issue with them. I thought to myself, why would she invite them knowing I didn’t like them?

            I went up to her, gave her the gifts and hugged her. I wished her a happy birthday as she began to introduce me to the twins. “Ivory, this is Layla and Fatima, guys, this is Ivory.” They just waved a hand at me, as if they were dismissing me. I felt anger boil inside of me, but it was Sam’s birthday so I had to behave myself. An hour into the party, Fatima made a bell noise. Then, all heck broke loose.

            “Peasant Ivory!” Fatima yelled. They all began to laugh, including Samantha. I looked at her with pure hurt in my eyes. Then, out of nowhere, I felt something going around my neck, and I began to freak out. While swinging my arms and legs everywhere, I think I hit someone because I heard a scream. “HANG THE N-WORD!” I heard one of the twins yell. I yelled at her, hit her, and then I hit Sam. I ran out the room and cried on my mom’s lap. “What’s wrong?” She asked. I just shook my head and didn’t say a word. My mother still doesn’t know what happened to this day. When we got home, I crawled into bed and cried myself to sleep. This is why I never, ever want friends again.