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Quote by Rita Williams-Garcia

“There is something about sudden darkness in a classroom of twenty-four sixth graders that sets off mischief. There was giggling on one side of the room. Spitballs on the other.”

Quote by Rita Williams-Garcia

Work

P.S. Be Eleven

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Author

Rita Williams-Garcia
Rita Williams-Garcia

Rita Williams-Garcia is an American writer known for her young adult literature. Her works often explore issues of race, class, and gender, and are highly appreciated by readers. more

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“We danced until Big Ma told us to stop that noise-making “like a herd of stampeding hippos.” That we should use that energy for praising the Lord. And that was enough to start the other two praising Jesus for helping us to save and I fell in with them, praising and stomping. Then Big Ma said, “That’s not the meaning of ‘Jesus saves.’” But it was too late. “Jesus saves for the Jackson Five” was the only praising going on in our room. Even Big Ma had to laugh.”

“He was horrible to me," I say firmly. Mama waves a hand. "That doesn't mean anything. You know, they say boys are meanest to the girls they like the best." "I hate that saying. Meanness is meanness. To tell a girl that there's some sort of benevolent action behind it all is to say that it's okay for her to be victimized." Mama stares up at me for a moment, then shakes her head. "You're right, pumpkin. I don't know why I said that." JoJo snorts again. Because you and I were raised with 'boys will be boys' tossed in our faces." She sits back in her chair and turns her face to the sunlight. "I say it should be 'dicks will be dicks, and a misbehaving dick deserves a knee to the balls.”

“Excerpts from an autobiography I’ll never write: Around the time I was nine years old, I carried around a marble notebook everywhere I went. It had the words, “The Purpose of Life” written in sharpie where my name should’ve been. That notebook was sacred to me. I had conjured up this belief that I’d inevitably be whisked away into the afterlife once I fully discovered and was able to coherently express the “purpose of life” on those pages. In a most whimsical, literal and childlike way, I believed that there simply would no longer be a point to my existence. This wasn’t cynical or depressive at all, it just seemed… logical. Like when a student finishes their test before everyone else so they get to leave the room and go play or do whatever else they want. My notebook was filled with synonyms. I’ve always loved synonyms. I once tried to list out every single word I knew in the English language. You can imagine how overwhelming it was when I realized that one word would remind me of twenty others… That’s when I learned just how expansive this world is. I found that when small ripples turned into tsunamis of information in my mind, I felt most alive and my curiosity grew and grew. It was then I also discovered my love for figuratively drowning in words. I never finished that notebook. I decided right then that I’d pretend not to know the answers so I’d get to stay a little longer.”

“In her loneliness, Lee collected a legion of animals in her room, where she left the window open to let them come and go. There were barn kittens and baby mice and tiny raccoons and little possum. They always grew up and eventually left her, but she was okay with that. Sometimes she'd see them in the woods months or years after, and they'd make eye contact, and an understanding would pass between them. It was the type of memory that she questioned now, skeptical of its plausibility. Yet, she could still remember the feeling of falling asleep with quivering fur against her cheek.”