Blackbird Fly by Erin Entrada Kelly

meant we would have a better life, and to get a better life, you have to have a good education.
    â€œStealing is a serious offense at this school, Mrs. Yengko,” Principal Earnshaw continued. “We may have to consider suspension.”
    My mother repeated it. “Suspension?”
    â€œYes. It means she would have to stay home forthree days and would make zeros on all her missed work. It’s fairly serious.”
    When my mother didn’t say anything, Principal Earnshaw shuffled the papers around on his desk. “But,” he said, clearing his throat, “she is an exceptional student, and she’s never been in any trouble, so we’ll just suspend her for the rest of today.”
    My mother glared at me. “Come, Analyn . Time to go home for suspension.”
    â€œOkay, then,” said Principal Earnshaw, because my mother was now standing and tugging on the back of my shirt so I would stand up too. When my mom decides a conversation is over, it’s difficult to regain control. The principal tried his best though. He quickly stood. “I will suspend her for the remainder of the day, and this is going into her school file. If anything like this happens again, it will be a five-day suspension.”
    â€œThank you, Mr. Shaw,” said my mother.
    As soon as we got into the car she launched intoa Giant Mom Lecture. These lectures usually started with the word oy , which loosely translates to “I simply can’t believe it” in English.
    â€œOy, Apple,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s no wonder you have no friends to the house. You change your name for no reason, and now you steal money from teachers. You are a good girl, anak . Why did you do this? Children in the Philippines never steal from their teachers. We help sweep the floors and clean the classrooms every morning and every afternoon. That’s the problem with America; they don’t teach children respect. They spoil them. No hard work. In the Philippines, children have respect for adults . . .”
    In my mind I screamed, This isn’t the Philippines! as loud as I could. I screamed it until my throat was sore and all the windows in the car shattered.
    â€œYou can be known as Analyn the Thief or as Apple, a good American girl,” said my mother. “Your choice.”
    I looked at the sky. It was bright blue with a round, perfect sun. I imagined a hole cracking open and transporting me into another dimension so I wouldn’t have to listen to my mother. A dimension where I was starting a new life. Maybe, in the other dimension, I would form a four-person band and play lead guitar. Maybe, in the other dimension, there would be no such things as mothers or suspensions. There would be no Dog Logs. There would just be me. And I would be happy.

9
Turning American
2FS4N: “I Will”

    T he thing I remember most about the Philippines is the water. It’s the most beautiful water you’ll ever see. It’s sparkling shades of green and blue and feels like it covers the whole world. I can remember the way it smelled too—salty and wet—and how the sand felt when it pushed between my toes. Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if we had stayed there. My mother says she wanted us to have a betterlife, but when I think of splashing through the water and eating mangoes until the juice dripped down my chin, I don’t understand how our life in America is any better. In the Philippines, I would be just another face in the crowd. No one could call me a dog-eater or a dog. Maybe I would even be pretty.
    My mother says we came to America because there’s more opportunity, but the real reason we came is because my dad died and my mom didn’t want to be reminded of him. That’s why she said we needed to leave everything behind; she was worried that if she took my father’s watch or his beat-up tape player she would just keep remembering how