I walk in, my first day of school.

Yeah, I’m the new kid.
I see hair flips; not just any hair flips.
Every time girls make eye contact,
their bangs whip off their foreheads.

I look around.
No one’s hair is longer than what reaches the neck.
Long, very long front bangs.
And so, a girl looks me straight in the eye from across the hallway.
I stare back for a few seconds as I watch her bangs flip back.
In conformity, I do the same.

She walks up to me and gives me a shove.
“You ain’t doin’ it right.”
“Doing what right?” I ask.
“Oh ma gawd, you gotta get rid of that!”
She points to the back of my long hair.

The next day I come to school.
My hair shorter than ever, with long front bangs.
Just like the others.
She comes up to me again, looks me in the eye.
I stare back for a few seconds as I watch her bangs flip back again.
In conformity, I do the same.

She gives me a shove.
“You ain’t doin’ it right.”
“Doing what right?” I ask.
“Three fingers and thumb folded in, girl.
Right pinky pointed out, under the bangs, and bam, flick it up.
You’re gonna have to learn quick.”
“Don’t tell me what I have to do.” I say, trying to stand up for myself.
She elbows me and walks away.

I had to fit in and so I had to learn the hair flip.
At lunch, I went to the bathroom stall with my phone.
In front of the camera, I practiced, over and over again.
Three fingers and thumb, folded in.
Right pinky out.
Under the front bangs and bam, flick it up.
I did it until I had it perfect.
I didn’t care that this took up my lunch hour.
At least, I’d fit in now, and I did, all afternoon.

The next day, Wednesday, I go to school, feeling confident.
I look around, everyone has their long bangs up front,
but there’s something else everyone has - a pink shirt.
Except I’m wearing a blue shirt.
And so, a girl walks up to me and gives me a shove.
“You ain’t doin’ it right.”
“Doing what right?” I ask.
“We wear pink on Wednesdays.”