I hadn’t spoken to Rashid concerning the essay he wrote about his brother, even though it had been a couple of weeks since he’d given it to me. He’d been so terrified since then. He practically ran out of the room the instant class was over. Before, he had tended to be one of the last boys to leave, kind of the way Jason was. I decided that I was just going to have to talk to him. He was never going to come to me. But I didn’t know how he’d react. So I was bit nervous when I heard his hesitant knock on my office door, late in the day “Ms. Hansen?”

“Hi, Rashid. Come on in.”

He entered and sat warily on the edge of a chair. “So, we’ve got to discuss your chapel talk. How’s it going?” I asked.

The boy relaxed slightly—clearly he’d been afraid I’d pounce on him about the essay right away. “Um, okay. I never … I mean, I haven’t done anything like this before, but I think it’s going okay.”

“Well, what’s your subject?”

He looked uncomfortable. “Um, integration, I guess.”

I was startled. I hadn’t heard that word used by anybody in nearly twenty years. “Racial integration?” He nodded. “What about it?”

“Well, I’m not against it, obviously, or I wouldn’t be here, right? But there’s some problems with it that I just want to talk to people about. How this place isn’t really integrated enough. We—I mean people like me—are just here to round out somebody else’s experience. That’s what it feels like, anyway. You know what I’m sayin’?”

“You really think that’s the only reason you’re here?”

He sighed. “Not the only reason. No. But it’s a big one.” He paused. “People look at me like I’m in some kind of freak show. Some people.” His dark eyes softened. “You don’t. But other people do. Those are the ones I want to talk to.”

I was silent, touched by his faith in me. “Do you have a draft of your talk?” I said.

“Yeah … I mean, yes. I know I was supposed to bring it. Here it is.”

I took the slightly wrinkled paper. Even though it had been done on a computer, it was marked with a few cross-outs and changed words. I read carefully. “Well. This is a very fine speech. You’re going to make some people very angry, though. Are you sure this is what you want to say?”

His eyes were unwavering. “Yes.”

“And you’re ready to tell everyone about your brother?”

“Yes.”

“Then there isn’t much more I can say.” I paused, swallowed, spun my ring briefly around my finger. “I did want to talk to you about the essay you put in my box, though.”

“I thought you might.”