Whose Bracelet is this?

It’s mine. Do you know who else claimed the bracelet? Christina Tanelli. It was a school day afternoon. I was in kindergarten and we attended school for the first half of the day. I was at Haddam Elementary School (HES). When I arrived at school that morning, I took my bracelet off and placed it on the coat hook in the cubby closet along with my coat. I suspect I did so to ensure I did not sully my bracelet during art class. When it came time to line up for the busses, I took my coat, but I forgot the bracelet.

Mrs. Dean, my teacher, seeing the bracelet upon her perusal of the coat room asked, “Whose bracelet is this?” holding the bracelet up for all the kindergartners to see. I raised my hand. Christina also raised her hand. Mrs. Dean approached Christina and placed the bracelet in Christina’s open tote bag.

I did not understand why Mrs. Dean had given Christina my bracelet. I also did not understand why Christina would claim the bracelet belonged to her. Was she mistaken, confused, or was it kindergarten thievery?

When I returned home, I told my parents about the incident. It did not take long for my father to address the matter. A call was placed to the principal, Mr. Lewis, requesting an explanation. My father wanted to know 1) why Mrs. Dean presumed the bracelet belonged to Christina when both of us had raised our hands, and 2) what precisely was Mr. Lewis going to do about it.

I was not privy to the conversations between my father and Mr. Lewis, between Mr. Lewis and Mrs. Dean, or of the call placed to Christina Tanelli’s parents. I do know that the very next day, the bracelet was brought back to school and returned to me.

For background, I was the only child of color at Haddam Elementary School, in my kindergarten class of 22 perhaps. My brother was the only child of color in his first-grade class. My father had engaged in multiple conversations with Mr. Lewis before my brother and I set foot inside Haddam Elementary School. He made it very clear that his children were to be treated with respect and no differently to any other students at the school. He did not want any incidents with his children.

Fast forward to 2^nd grade and I am again in class with Christina Tanelli (I just could not shake her).  During recess Christina decided to call me the “N word”. I can vividly remember how awful this made me feel and the tears that flowed down my cheeks. I could not stop crying and I was so upset I could not even articulate to Mrs. Francis, my 2^nd grade teacher, what Christina had said. There was another call to the school and another conversation with Mr. Lewis.

That pattern continued throughout elementary school: children said unkind things to the kids of color, and my father came to the school to speak with Mr. Lewis.

Some images stay with you.

While I am clearly many years away from kindergarten, I still have the visual of Mrs. Dean raising her arm up and placing my bracelet in Christina’s open tote bag. All these many years later, that image and that memory is seared in my brain. It was as hurtful then as it is now if only because I wonder how many Mrs. Deans are out there, and how many little Ava’s suffered because of the many Christina’s. Not necessarily the precise situation of a pilfered bracelet, but more so the lack of trust and the rush to judgment and the presumption that the child of color was not telling the truth.   

Sweet Dreams,

Ava

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