“Just checking. I mean, you two are looking real nice,” E.J. says.
“Thanks, E.J.,” I say. “But I think it’s ridiculous that you think I could only be getting dressed up for a guy.”
“Well, you look beautiful, whoever it’s for.”
I think for a moment and then tell him, “It’s for me.”
Once we get to the fundraiser, I don’t feel as out of place as I thought I would. That prep time with Maxine paid off. She was right about it all, except she forgot the part about how good the food would be, how waiters walk around bringing you tray after tray of huge shrimp, stuffed mushrooms. Maxine didn’t tell me how I’d feel like some kind of celebrity, the way everyone keeps coming up to me, asking, “Are you the young lady who made that art piece? It’s lovely.” They swarm around my framed art, hovering at the wall like bees, making bids for the silent auction and walking away, then coming back again to see if anyone else has made a bid.
I can’t believe people are going back and forth about who wants to buy something I made.
There’s so much happening all at once. Music from the jazz ensemble playing in the background, servers coming up to me every few seconds with a new offering. I am standing with Maxine and a woman named Gina, who is one of the board members of Woman to Woman.
“I love your work,” Gina says to me. She is a short white woman with black hair. We talk for a while about art because she used to paint when she was younger. “I don’t do it as much as I’d like to, but I pull out my brushes every now and then,” she tells me. Gina gives me her card. “I’d love to talk with you more about your future plans for college. Keep in touch.”
Another couple walks up to us. They are holding hands, and everything about them looks expensive. Even the smiles on their faces. They give me compliments and ask me what school I go to, what colleges I am interested in, what I like about Woman to Woman.
I answer their questions and tell them, “The thing I like most about this program is that the mentors and program director really listen.” They are all looking at me and smiling and drinking their wine and then smiling some more. I get what Mom meant by feeling like I’m on display. But Maxine was right too; if I’m going to be on display, I might as well use the opportunity to say something worthwhile, so when the man with the perfect smile asks, “And what have you learned?” I tell him I’ve learned I don’t have to wait to be given an opportunity, but that I can make an opportunity and use my voice to speak up for what I need and want.
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.