a sophomore at a nice private high school on the Upper West Side. Weâve chosen this school because itâs safer than the public school in our neighborhood.
âHey, Mom, can we talk about that?
âWhat about it?
âDoes anything about that strike you asânot quite right?
âWhatâs wrong about it?
âI guess I just wonder if you were worried about my safety more than you were about my education?
âSure I was.
â . . .
âThe neighborhood was still rough then, Betsy. The school you would have gone to had a reputation for being dangerous.
â . . .
âI donât understand what you find so wrong with what Iâm saying.
âWhat about the quality of my education?
âWe didnât pick just any school, if thatâs what you mean. This one didnât require uniforms.
âOkay. Moving on.
Tonightâs dinner conversation is not to your liking, even though itâs not all that different from any other nightâs dinner conversation. Mostly business. You see it otherwise.
Can I be excused? you ask.
This is the real world. Get used to it , your stepfather says. Itâs not my world , you say. Donât be naive, Betsy. Stop always saying that! You think because you have one Jewish friend who isnât greedy that whatâs true isnât true? Well, who is good, to you, Victor? Seriously, what people are okay? Are we okay? Obviously not all white people are okay, because I know how you feel about Jews and gay people.
You better shape up, Betsy , he says.
You go to your room and close the door to call your best friend. Theyâre so prejudiced, Nina. Itâs awful , you say. Oh, Betsy, Iâm sure theyâre not , she says. There are like no people they donât talk shit about. Iâm sure they donât mean it. Donât be naive, Nina.
You are decades away from recognizing what you just said as having anything to do with anything.
Later, when I think you may have calmed down, I knock quietly on your door and open it a crack. Itâs just me.
I can see that youâre not over it.
Betsy, you know how Victor is. Donât let it get to you , I say. Why am I supposed to be the one who changes? you ask. Because he wonât. Well, I wonât either. Mom, why donât you ever disagree with him? Considering some of what youâve told me about Grandpa I would think you would have something to say. How can you complain about his prejudice when you have your own? That was totally different , I say. How was it different? It seems exactly the same. Have I ever said you couldnât be friends with someone because of their race or religion? Because thatâs what it was like when I was growing up. But what difference does it make if you still think and say awful things about them? We would never say those things to their face. I know! Thatâs my point! Betsy,come on, we have Jewish friends and gay friends, Iâve sung with people of every color and background. There are always exceptions. Oh my god! Well, there are. So you agree with him. Not on everything, no, of course not. How come when he gets going on me you never say anything? What? You never defend me, ever. Itâs like, when he goes off on me is like the only time you donât have something to say. Sweetheart. . . . Forget it, Mom. Can I be alone now please?
Cornices
A junior in high school, you havenât been dating yet because you go to a small school and there arenât a lot of choices. By winter, Nina is on her second or third serious boyfriend already; it is decided that they will fix you up on a blind double date with them and his friend Ed. After some deliberation, you pick out a striped button-down shirt and the gray cashmere V-neck sweater you got on sale in the menâs department at Charivari, with a pair of high-waisted jeans and blue Wallabees. Maybe a nice necklace? I could lend you something. No thanks, Mom. What about a