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In Their Own Words
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On Summer Experiences
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In Their Own Words
Naki and I Start School
I’m starting school again this month, in a culinary arts program that I hope will get me a good job and end
my need for public assistance this year. And I’m taking my little girl, Naki, to her first school this month. As I
walk her through the door of the day care program, I think of all my hopes and fears for her.
Naki is three years old, with big brown eyes and dark hair just long enough for a lot of little ponytails with
hair ties. She’s long so I think she’s going to be tall, and she has a pop belly and dime thighs,
with little fat feet and stubby hands like her dad. She loves to sing in her squeaky but rough voice. She’s a lovely child.
I’ve been in the YouthBuild program for the past two years, learning construction and working toward my high
school equivalency diploma, while Naki stayed first with my grandmother and later with my mother. Now it’s time
for her to go to school with other kids, so she can get on, take her dreams, care about herself, and go wherever she wants.
But I fear her going to school. I fear her fear, and feel it. What if the teachers don’t treat her right, or kids hit on her,
or she hits on other kids? I fear her walking the playground and no one minding her. Naki hates boys, she can be selfish
like me, and like her father she thinks the world revolves around her.
She loves to go in the sprinklers or go swimming,
she hates snow, and she likes to get dirty. Every time she’s bad I pretend to pop her and she says, “No
Mommy, I’ll be a good girl,” and goes right on to what she’s doing.
But first, I’ve got to walk her through the door. I show her the door that I’m going to walk through,
because whatever I show my daughter I can do, she’s going to do it. Then I take her to her own school,
and I have to leave her there. As I go back to school I imagine her standing there so proudly with her back
straight up, nose up, and feet straight, heading her successful way.
Maharai Lowe, 21, attends the YouthBuild program in Springfield, Massachusetts and is completing her
GED. She is a single mom; the father of her daughter, Naki, was recently released from prison in New York.
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I was raised by my grandmother, and she would take me to church with her every Sunday. But she kept me too close to her
in the house, and maybe that’s the reason I got wild and dropped out of high school when I was 14. Even though I
don’t like my daughter to be away from me too much, I want Naki to be better than I was—to skip the streets,
keep her mind focused, and stay in school. So although I want her at my side always, I know I’ve got to let her go.
That’s my Naki, the child of my life. I want her to explore the world sea to sea and come back with a story
for me. I dream she stays in school, decides to go to college, furthers her education. I would like her to be famous
someday—singing, dancing, acting, or even being our president.