Our GPA is not our price tag
my worth is not decided by my proximity to the magic amount of 4.0 dollars.
It's obvious what you think of the students
not sitting in your uppity advanced placement seats.
You give the silver spoon wielders a false sense of superiority
as they look down their nose at the students deemed too ghetto to touch
too stupid to conversate
"I bet they don't even know how to read" kind of kids.
They laugh without shame
while sitting cozy in their ivory towers
in the honors hallway at school
I am not the girl you think you're talking to
when you lean into tell me something
after looking left and right to make sure there are no minority students around
behind my white drywall face
crawl the roaches that you're trying to avoid.
I'd like you to know that I am Latina first.
That I learned to read in Spanish before I did English.
That I'm the face of what's coming is to infest your classroom
and there's no exterminator that can keep us out.
Don't pretend this is not a classism thing.
Everyone knows that it's no coincidence that after school when the bell rings
that the kids that drive fancy cars
are the ones that just walked out of the honors hall
But teacher there's a growing number of exceptions to that rule
like me and my crew
as we ride the city bus
backpacks full of honors textbooks
and hearts full of hope.