Piecing Me Together(50)
The man with the perfect smile says, “My, I am so impressed. You are so articulate, so well spoken, and—”
Before he can finish his sentence, Gina cuts him off. “What did you expect?” she asks. She says this with a forced grin on her face, a tone in her voice that is trying to hide its irritation. She stands closer to me, almost shielding me from him. “Woman to Woman is full of talented, smart, passionate young women from all over the city.”
The man’s face tenses up, and I don’t know what to do. Thankfully, Maxine is standing next to me. She steps forward a bit and says, “Yes, and I’m so lucky to work with them.”
Just then one of the servers comes up to us. “Stuffed mushroom, anyone?”
We each take one, and there’s barely time for the awkwardness to settle in, because Sabrina takes the mic and makes a short speech.
At the end of the night, the winner of the auction comes up to me, smiling, my piece in his hands. He is a tall brown man with a watch on his wrist that says he could buy all of the art at this auction and not miss a dime. “My name is Andrew, and I’m very glad to be the new owner of this piece of art. I hear you are the artist.”
I shake his hand. Firm, like Maxine taught me. “My name is Jade.”
“I’ve got my eye on you,” he says. “I hope to see more work from you in the future. Do you have more pieces like this?”
“Oh, no,” I tell him. “I created this especially for this event.” Maxine clears her throat, giving me a glance nudging me to say more. “Right now I am working on a series of collages about police brutality against unarmed black women and men.” I also tell him all about my pieces on York and Lewis and Clark, and my vision to make beauty out of everyday things, to find beauty in the disregarded.
Andrew says, “The world is in for a big awakening once you really get your work out there.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a business card. “If there’s any way I can help you, shoot me an e-mail.”
Throughout the night, guests keep coming up to me and congratulating me and handing me their business cards. Maxine smiles at me. “Hold on to those cards you’re getting. Follow up tomorrow.”
“Okay.” I slide them into my purse, which is only big enough for my lip gloss, mints, house key, and these cards.
Sabrina motions for Maxine to come over and talk with one of the board members. I stay behind, looking at the space on the wall where my art was. I think about these people who don’t even know me but want to support me, and I am feeling seen and heard.
66
la tarea
homework
The next day, Lee Lee comes over after school so we can do our homework together. Hers is more interesting than mine. She is writing an essay about how media is used in social movements.
“I’m comparing how in 1955 the civil rights movement got a lot of attention because Jet magazine printed the photo of Emmett Till. Our teacher told us that decision put a face to racism in the South. People all over the world reacted. So, yeah, we have to write about that and connect it to how Facebook and Twitter are being used by activists now.”
“Your teacher assigned this?”
“Yeah. I wrote the first draft, but now she’s saying I need to revise it.” Lee Lee sounds so annoyed by that, but I’d rather do her homework than mine. I don’t think any of the teachers at St. Francis would assign that.
When we’re finished with our homework, Lee Lee says, “You want to hear my poem for Natasha Ramsey? I’m still working on it, but I think it’s almost finished.”
I listen to Lee Lee read her poem, and I want to say something more profound, but all I can think of is, “Wow, Lee Lee, that’s really good.”
“Thanks,” Lee Lee says. She sets her notebook down and looks over the poem again. “I want to do something with this.”
“Like what?” I ask.
“I don’t know. Everyone’s poems in class were so good. Seems like a waste to just write them and no one hears them except us.”
When Lee Lee says this, I think about Mia’s gallery. “I have an idea,” I say.
For the rest of the night we think up a plan to have an open mic and art show in honor of Natasha Ramsey. We get so caught up with our idea that we plan every detail. Lee Lee will be the MC. She’ll open and close the event with two of her poems. We’ll ask students from her school to come and share their poems too. I’ll have some of my art on display, and hopefully we can get some other visual artists from local schools. I’ll ask Josiah if he’ll be our social media person and help us promote it.
Lee Lee says, “Should we charge people to get in and give the proceeds to Natasha’s family? I heard there’s some kind of fund where people can donate to help with the cost of medical bills.”
I think about the benefit gala and all those people coming up to me, giving me their cards, saying, “Call me if you need anything,” and “Keep in touch.” I tell Lee Lee, “I don’t want any excuse for people not to come, so let’s not charge. But we can sell the art. I know some people who will buy art for a good cause.”
We are all ready to choose a date when we realize we haven’t even asked Mia if she’ll host the event. I sure hope she meant it when she said her gallery was for the people.