WE WERE BACK TOGETHER for US History class. A sign posted on the door read colored entrance only. Unapologetic hoisted at the front of the class was a red, black, and green flag.
“Good afternoon, I am Sister Nicole-Rosa.”
Sister Nicole-Rosa had soft black hair, soft black eyes and was soft-spoken, but she wasn’t any pushover though. She was fair and firm. Sister Nicole-Rosa had assigned seats. I was sitting next to Yesterday Today Tomorrow and Napple.
“Welcome to US History class. Not no United States History class, but we history class. History is the landmark by which we are directed into the true course of life, Brother Marcus Garvey. The roaring twenties. The Great Migration, The New n***o Movement.”
Everyone took out their notebooks. Sister Nicole-Rosa was the eldest of the teache
