“Ayo, is something wrong?” Mr. Cutler asks. I like Mr. Cutler. He’s French and has a melodic accent that makes everything sound fancy, even if it’s not. He’s in his late thirties and has bright red hair, a thin goatee, and kind green eyes. The reason I love his class is the very same reason I know I will hate the lesson today: after the lesson, he encourages open dialogue and lets kids say whatever they want, so long as they aren’t cursing or outright insulting each other.

“Ayo?” he says firmly.

I take a seat and hope that maybe if I stay quiet, I can make it out of this. I look over at Milton. He knows what’s coming. And judging by the wary expression on her face, so does Denise. The three of us silently agree to brace ourselves.

We’re about halfway done with the lesson, and so far, it’s not that bad. The reason it’s not bad is that all the kids, consciously or otherwise, have opted for politeness instead of honesty. I know it sounds messed up to say, but given where my gauge is, I’m good with it.

We hear blanket statements like “Racism is wrong” and “It’s unfair to be treated differently because your skin color isn’t right” for the first half of the class.

The three of us nod along and wait for it to be over.

And then Sage Mildred raises her hand. If you curled her hair and put her in a puffy gown, Sage would be a perfect antebellum poster. She has clear, bright blue eyes, long, cascading blond hair, and a smile that is always working overtime. She’s also smart as hell; I will always give her that. We’ve debated in class before, and sometimes she wins and sometimes I do. I can’t say that we’re friends, but I don’t think we’re enemies. We hang in different circles, but we’re usually cordial and say hello to each other.

I’m not sure what she’s going to say, but the fact that she clears her throat and begins to speak in a whisper is a bad sign.

“Mr. Cutler, I want to ask a question, but if I do, some people are going to get mad. So I’m not sure I should say anything.”

The three of us exchange a knowing glance. But we remain silent.

“Well, Sage, we are all for honest conversation in this class,” Mr. Cutler says. “These are obviously sensitive issues, so watch how you phrase things, of course, but this is a classroom, and questions are welcomed.”

“All right. First, I’m not racist.”

Well, that just put my mind at ease.

She continues as my heart begins to race. “I think everyone should be treated fairly, and I don’t think color should have anything to do with it.”

Wait for it . . .