By Jacqueline Woodson
When the kids in my class ask why
I am not allowed to pledge to the flag
I tell them It's against my religion but don't say,
I am in the world but not of the world. This,
they would not understand.
Even though my mother's not a Jehovah's Witness,
she makes us follow their rules and
leave the classroom when the pledge is being said.
Every morning, I walk out with Gina and Alina
the two other Witnesses in my class.
Sometimes, Gina says,
Maybe we should pray for the kids inside
who don't know that God said
"No other idols before me." That our God
is a jealous God.
Gina is a true believer. Her Bible open
during reading time. But Alina and I walk through
our roles as Witnesses as though this is the part
we've been given in a play
and once offstage, we run free, sing
"America the Beautiful" and "The Star-Spangled Banner"
far away from our families—knowing every word.
Alina and I want
more than anything to walk back into our classroom
press our hands against our hearts. Say,
"I pledge allegiance..." loud
without our jealous God looking down on us.
Without our parents finding out.
Without our mothers' voices
in our heads saying, You are different.
When the pledge is over, we walk single file
back into the classroom, take our separate seats
Alina and I far away from Gina. But Gina
always looks back at us—as if to say,
I'm watching you. As if to say,
Monday was a chore day so this will be a boring entry. It was nice out, albeit hot for September, and I got out to the park for a bit, but mostly I did work and laundry and listened to people argue about Discovery (including people who did not watch Discovery), which was nevertheless preferable to listening to the handful of people I know agreeing with the thing in the White House about suppressing the free speech of football players.
Maddy had plans with former work friends in the evening, though she had dinner with us first. Paul made veggie beef echiladas, and he and I watched the start of the Cowboys-Cardinals game, then some Bones episodes (the one with the Guy Fieri type cook and the one with the bullied boarding school girl). Trevor Noah just did a great job dissecting everything that's wrong with the president butting into the NFL. From Mount Vernon's Colonial Fair: