“Mi padre left, too. I get it. That sucks, but what you gonna do, right?”

“Pretty much.”

There were nine girls in the room, who all looked as unenthused to be there as I felt. There was me and the Hannahs—Jones and McGovern, respectively, who were as fair-skinned as I was but with far lighter hair—an Asian girl, two Latinas, two black girls and Erika, who was Afro-Latinx if surnames were to be believed.

Hers was García.

“Where are you from?” I asked her, thinking I was asking about her hometown.

“The Dominican. You?”

Oh. I meant Stonington but...

“Spain,” I said, which was a bit of information that didn’t always go over so well because it translated to “Colonizer.”

Super white colonizer at that, thanks Swedish mom.

Erika nodded but said nothing else. I left it alone—she’d talk to me again if she wanted to. There was a lot going on among Hispanics and Latinx, power dynamics centered on colonialism and colorism. It was complicated stuff that I only sort of understood, so my approach was to be friendly with people sharing my label but not pushy. I was always Hispanic, and no one could take that away from me, but I was also a walking, talking example of what made the community so messy in the first place. I tried not to take it personally when people didn’t warm up to that. It wasn’t about me so much as it was about what I represented.

Erika would be okay with me or she wouldn’t. I wouldn’t sweat it either way because I wasn’t in the class to make friends. I was there to...

Put diapers on a bag of flour, I guess?

The two women who taught the class were licensed social workers, both closer to Mormor’s age than my mom’s. They seemed nice. There was blonde, perky, white Amanda with the cherry-print top and red capri pants and executive bob haircut, and quiet, black Marie in the cotton workout pants, velour sweatshirt and pink Nikes. Marie spoke in such a low tone of voice we had to lean forward as much as our pregnant bellies would allow to hear her, but what she said was supportive, and more importantly, informative. She mentioned Lamaze classes as a thing we should sign up for ASAP, that there were classes online we could take. She talked about state benefits to teen moms that made those classes free or discounted at certain hospitals and birthing centers. She answered questions about getting GEDs for the people who wouldn’t be able to finish high school traditionally with a baby around, but also advised there’d be a whole class on that, so sit tight. She told us there’d be sessions about health benefits and medical resources for both pre-birth and post-birth. There were practical knowledge things, too.

Like the whole flour bag, disposable diaper and cloth-diaper-with-the-pins thing.