Imani All Mine by Connie Rose Porter Page A

words, so I laid down and sung her “Ten Little Angels,” over and over. I don’t know if she want to hear it, but I kept on singing until she sat up and smiled at me. Forgiving me like I ain’t even have no right to be forgiven for.
    I ain’t know nothing about how I could’ve hurt Imani head. Gave her a brain injury. When I finally go back to school, I wasn’t thinking nothing about shaking her. I went back thinking about Mr. Toliver.
    All my other teachers took what work I did and then give me even more so I could be where I was supposed to be. With my mouth all dry, I went up to Mr. Toliver after class. I ain’t have no excuse in my mouth. All I had was my work in my hand. Mr. Toliver looked up at me when I handed it to him. He smiled at me. Maybe like the devil would smile at you. All teeth, so you think he got something good for you. I smiled back.
    Then he got out a red pen and marked a big fat F on every paper. Mr. Toliver ain’t say nothing. He was still grinning and had a look on his face like he want me to say something. Something in my stupid and broke-down way. Like, You wrong, Mr. Toliver. So he could say, You
are
wrong, Mr. Toliver. And I would have to concentrate until my head was pounding to say, No, I said exactly what I meant.
You wrong
, Mr. Toliver.
    He ain’t say nothing to me the rest of the week, and I ain’t say nothing to him. I just did my work and actually looked forward to going on to Mrs. Poole class at the end of the day, where the temperature be normal and she don’t have no fake smiles.
    Mrs. Poole wasn’t smiling at all, though, when she finished up talking about shaking babies. She say, The holidays is a time of stress for you and your child. Girls, take a time-out if you need one. Then she told us all to have a Merry Christmas and she give us all a article to take home about Shaken Baby Syndrome. I folded it up and slipped it in my book without even bothering to look at it.
    When Mrs. Poole let class out, I usually be one of the first ones busting out the door. But I stayed around packing up my backpack. After everybody left, Mrs. Poole ask me if I want to talk to her about something. I was shame about what I done to Imani. Too shame to ever tell Mama. To even tell Eboni. I mean, it was a secret only I knew. Imani probably ain’t even remember it happened. But I did, and I forgot all about being mad with Mrs. Poole because I ain’t remember her saying nothing about shaking a baby before. I went right up to her desk and told her how I shook Imani. I ain’t never done it again, I say. I ain’t know you shouldn’t do it. I wasn’t crying or nothing when I told her.
    Mrs. Poole told me to sit down. I sat right in front her, and she say, I’m glad you told me this, Tasha. You made a mistake. A
big
mistake, and you need to know there some mistakes you can’t never set right. You was lucky, Mrs. Poole say.
    I say, I ain’t never hurt my baby. I never hit her. I don’t cuss her and call her names. Nothing like that. I respect her.
    Mrs. Poole say, I know you respect your child. I seen you with her. You take good care of her, Tasha. You a good mother.
    I almost fell out my seat. Mrs. Poole say it! I’m a good mama! Her saying that felt better than if Mr. Toliver had marked all my papers a 100.
    Then she say, You not perfect, Tasha. No parent perfect. I’m not. My husband not. We raised our children together, though. Most of you girls raising your children alone. How much help you get from your mother?
    There I was feeling better, and she had to ruin it by trying to get in my business.
    She help, I say.
    Well, that’s good, Mrs. Poole say. Every parent need some help, especially a single parent. You girls is under pressure raising your kids. Talk with your mama when you feeling frustrated. When you need help. Or you can talk to me if you want, Mrs. Poole say.
    And I was thinking, Yeah, right! Like