the tallest boy in the school

and as I followed him

down the hallway

my head reached the bottom

of his book bag.

I knew I was brown,

but didn’t realize

how brown I really was

until I saw so many

who were white and pink,

pink and white,

and only a handful of dark brown.

And although school just started,

and the bell rang only 7 minutes ago

(420 seconds to be exact),

I already feel like I don’t belong.

Language Arts

Is a class

where I don’t know where to sit.

So I stand by the classroom door

and double numbers

inside my head

to calm me.

1 + 1 = 2

2 + 2 = 4

4 + 4 = 8

8 + 8 = 16

16 + 16 = 32

32 + 32 = 64

64 + 64 = 128

I reach the number

1,024

when the teacher shows me

where to sit.

Language arts

is a lie.

There is no art

in here.

Just lots of punctuation

, . ! — . . . ; ?

And confusing questions

that can have

more than one answer.

Science Class

Relief.

Because we have

assigned seats.

Relief.

Because there is

a math problem

on the board.

Relief.

Because math problems

are safe

and have only

one

answer.

Hands

I am already solving

the math problem

in my head . . .

when Hi, I’m Aidan,

his arm reaches out.

Hi, I’m Brittany,

her hand shakes his.

This time he looks at me.

Hi, I’m Aidan,

his hand is out.

His hands waits.

I am so surprised

for a second

I don’t know what to do.

I don’t want to explain,

so instead my hand

reaches out slowly.

He smiles.

My fingers—always cold—

touch his.

His fingers

are warm

like his smile.

I forget to say my name.

It’s Nurah.

But they don’t ask.

I hope no more boys

try to shake my hand.

I’m Muslim,

I’m not supposed to touch boys

who aren’t related to me.

Guys who aren’t my brother,

father,

grandfather,

mother’s or father’s brother.

Aidan isn’t any of those.

What would Nana say

if she saw me

shaking a boy’s hand?

Math Class Decisions

The numbers draw me

into their world

inviting me with a wink

of + - ÷÷ and ×.

The numbers almost distract me from

seeing a girl

with a fat braid

who reminds me of Asna.

Coloring 101

In geography class,

there is a teacher,

brown-ponytailed,

with a too-big smile.

Welcome to geography.

Otherwise known as

Coloring 101.

Baba,

You lied.

I thought the schools

here in America

are supposed to be better?

Lunchtime

At lunchtime,

the girl with the fat braid

is sitting at a table

loud with laughter,

full of friends.

I realize

that I need her,

but she doesn’t need me.

I button my lips,

keep walking past her table,

past all the tables,

and slink near the stairs.

Second Day of School

What did you say your name was again?