On Ethnic Studies Removed from Arizona Classrooms
I teach Deisey poetry
at an elementary school
in Phoenix where most nine year olds
have parents that dress the Somali way
and tell stories the Bosnian way
and cook food the Mexican way;
parents who live the way they once lived
some place else—hiding with children in their arms.
Deisey is embarrassed to say her last name
because I am a teacher and this is a school
where no one can pronounce
the last names of parents.
I fail,
and then finally pronounce
her last name correctly— “boo-hor-kez,”
she smiles with that smile I can’t keep
her from hiding with her hands.
From the Rooftops Ç 2011 by Myrlin Hepworth
