She was white-haired, plump, and THE BOSS. She was my first grade teacher.
Mrs. Boatwright was calling out the role, and then she called a slightly familiar name: Tonya Morrison.
I didn’t respond.
She said it again, looking over her glasses around the room. “Tonya Morrison?”
Oh. I raised my hand. “My name is Suzie.”
No one had ever called me Tonya. Nada. Zilch.
From that day forward I was Tonya. Mrs. Boatwright wouldn’t have it any other way. After all, “Your middle name isn’t even Suzie. It’s Suzanne. You’re Tonya,” she said.
Tonya it was. [Read more…]