Opening For Ed Narritive – Dashawn Inniss

“We don’t have school next week”

“How do you know?”

“I heard Mr.Paul talking about it”

8th Grade, whispers of having no school the following week flew around the class. Little did we know that this week would turn into a month, from a month to a year. I would say I was a social butterfly in my early years, I was a very energetic, imaginative, child. Like most of my peers were I’m sure, everyone went through something during the pandemic; loved ones were lost, connections were severed, and quarantine for most had transformed their beloved home into prison cells. And like the rest of the world, I had hit rock bottom. By the time quarantine had ended and schools were open to reattend, I’d changed. I remember feeling nervous, I hadn’t kept in contact with most or any of my friends, and I was going into the same building I left in 8th grade. Everything looked relatively the same, but it felt foreign. All you could see were eyes, everyone wore a mask, and the school was silent, although I think that’s only how it seemed in my head. My first class was physics, the room was cold and bright white, like a doctor’s examination room, except filled with tables. I sat down alone in the back. I brought a hoodie to combat the cold the following day and every day after. I never spoke in that class or any other; people were barely showing up to school, so I had a hard time making friends. My teachers never or rarely called me to speak, and when they did I’d decline.

I got used to the routine, grab a hoodie, go to school, sit in silence and do my work, go home. I had two friends, but I hardly went out of my way to talk to them, I’d usually just follow them around while they socialized. Nobody had seen me without a mask because I never took it off, not even to eat. I was essentially mute as far as anyone outside of my little circle knew. Then Ms.Rust, my physics teacher, called me to solve and explain a problem to the class. As I’d usually do, I politely declined, but she insisted and made a comment about my lack of participation. I had figured being top of her class would be more than enough (little brag). Reluctantly I got up to the board, shivering not from the cool air but from nervousness. I solved the problem on the board and wrote it out, just the answer. That was my mistake, Ms.Rust asked me to explain, and I looked back, all eyes on me, the class dead silent. I began trying to get the words out felt weird, I rarely had to speak, let alone at a loud volume. It kind of felt like I lost my voice because once I tried forming my first word nothing came out like there was a barrier blocking it in my throat. I tried again, and this time I was successful. Before I could finish my first sentence, an accumulation of shocked faces and dropped jaws filled the class. I continued when this kid from the back of the class exclaimed about me sounding like a man and having a baby face. “Say I’m Batman” someone else chimed in. As time went on, and I spoke more often, those faces and reactions became more frequent. I got used to it though, but before I did it had made me inclined to speak less.