I could not spell or read, but I knew how to talk. I would game people. I would game everybody. It’s easy to game school, once you realize that the rules are bullshit and you can get around them.
For example, whenever I had to read something, I would get someone else to read it to me. There was this one dude who was really smart, and he had a deep voice. I would be like, “Oh my God, Curtis, could you read this to me, I love hearing your voice.” I had the greatest memory, so if he read to me I would memorize it instantly, and then if we had to read out loud in class, I would just say what he had said.
The problem would be when I would “read” the wrong paragraph. The teacher would say:
Teacher: “What are you talking about, Tiffany? You read the last paragraph. I want you to read the first one.”
Tiffany: “I got to pee, I’m sorry.”
I’d get up and run out the classroom. I had a lot of those types of emergencies my ninth-grade year.
Multiple choice tests were easy to fake. I would make people laugh, make ’em want to be my friend, and then, they would let me copy off of them. Essay tests were harder to fake, but I found a way. Here’s what I did:
I would just tell the teacher I was sick, or find a way to take the test later. Then I’d ask a friend, “What’d you say on your essay? Tell me everything.” They would tell me, I would memorize their words, and I’d just repeat them. My essay would be full of misspellings and grammar mistakes, but it would pretty much have whatever somebody else’s essay had.
Now, it seems crazy that I could not read or write. My memory was really good, so it didn’t make no sense. I just couldn’t read. You know what it was? I just didn’t believe I could. I thought I was stupid.
Before high school, I was told I was stupid every day. My stepdad used to tell me I was stupid all the time. My mama said it every day. My grandma sometimes. Definitely other kids at school. I believed I was stupid, so I guess I just didn’t think I could do it. I never tried.
I used to hate when people called me stupid. That would make me so angry. I would want to fight you for calling me stupid. But you know what’s so funny? As an adult, when I was working at the airline, one of my coworkers called me stupid. I said:
Tiffany: “You call me stupid one more damn time, we’re gonna have a straight-up fight in here.”
Coworker: “You do realize I’m trying to tell you that you’re funny. I think you’re funny. That’s why I’m saying that. Like, you stupid funny.”
Tiffany: “Oh, shit. My bad. I won’t fight you over no compliment.”
I started thinking, maybe all these years people been trying to tell me I was funny. Here I’m thinking they were trying to say I’m dumb, ’cause I felt dumb.
But back to being illiterate and trying to date Audie:
Audie ended up outing my lack of reading and writing, but not on purpose. Audie was in drama class, so I got into drama class. My thinking was that Audie was the only black dude in drama, and if I joined, I would be the only black girl in drama. I thought to myself, I bet we going to be kissing. We’re going to have to be husband and wife or something. They’re going to have to put us together. This school racist. They’re going to have to put us together.
But no. These motherfuckers had to be all liberal and integrated and shit. Audie got to have a Hispanic wife in the play. But I’m going to have to be a single mom?
Tiffany: “Why do I still got to be a statistic? This is not fair. I want to kiss Audie.”
Teacher: “What?”
And the shitty part was that Audie was cool with it. Man, I sent him so many Snickers, and he never gave me any sugar.
It was the drama teacher who figured out I couldn’t read. It was the end of my ninth-grade year. She asked me to stay after class, and by this time, she knew my hustle. She trapped me.
Miss Gree: “Tiffany, I want you to try this part. It’s a role opposite Audie.”
Tiffany: “Yeah, girl, I’m in!”
Miss Gree: “Great, I thought you might like it. Here, read this page, let’s see how you do.”
Tiffany: “Okay, Miss Gree, lemme take the script home and work on it, and I’ll do it for you tomorrow.”
Miss Gree: “I love your work ethic, Tiffany. But no. I’m going to need you to read this right now.”
Tiffany: “Uh . . . I’m not feeling well though, for real.”
Miss Gree: “You seemed very healthy thirty seconds ago. This must be a rapid virus.”
Tiffany: “Oh yeah, it could be Ebola. I better get to the nurse before I infect you.”
Miss Gree: “Tiffany . . . can you read?”
Tiffany: “I can read!”
Miss Gree: “Then just read this paragraph before you go see the nurse. Read this and you have the part.”
Tiffany: “You so pretty, Miss Gree. Did you change your hair?”
She was like no, no, no, no, no. She caught me.
But she was so cool about it. She didn’t tell anyone. She got me out of nutrition class, and had me come in every day and learn to read with her. She took me from first-grade level to ninth-grade level in like, a month. She just sat with me and showed me, and it was no problem.
Once I could read, man, it was like I had a superpower! I wasn’t stupid! All them words made sense!
She had me get into competitive monologue. I had already been in a drama festival as part of a team, and my team won first place for Macbeth, but I was just a witch. Easy shit, like, “Double double toil and trouble.” Super easy.
Now she had me do the Shakespeare Festival. It was a monologue, so I played all the characters. I was doing pretty well at some of the smaller competitions, but then there was the big one.
And I won first place. I beat out 375 drama kids.
When they called me as the winner, it was just me standing there onstage along with this one white guy. We were the finalists. He had won every year previously, so everyone expected him to win again. When they called my name, I kinda freaked out. I remember just being like, “Whooaaa.” I was just trembling all over, and then I started doing the Running Man right onstage. The lady who was presenting the award got mad:
Presenter: “Act like a lady. Act like a lady!”
Tiffany: “I am! I am!”
I think that’s the very first time I had an orgasm. I’m pretty sure I had one onstage. Then, I didn’t know what it was. I just started trembling and freaking out and getting sweats and tingling. Man, I was so happy.
You know what I was most happy about?
This would mean I was going to be able to buy my first pair of shoes on my own.
You see, I had made a bet. A week before the big competition, my aunt’s boyfriend was down on me:
Boyfriend: “You’re not gonna do it. That drama shit is a white thing. You’re not going to make it.”
Tiffany: “I’ve won before, at smaller meets. I did good.”
Boyfriend: “They ain’t gonna pick you. This Shakespeare. This a white thing.”
Tiffany: “I bet you I’m gonna win!”
Boyfriend: “Child, please. I bet you $100 you ain’t gonna win.”
When I got home, I ran in with my trophy:
Auntie: “You won?”
Tiffany: “I sure did. Got my trophy and everything!”